


the edge of oblivion (and other places to find love)

by AutisticMob



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arospec character, Autistic Zuko (Avatar), Background Femslash, Background Relationships, Biracial Character, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Everyone Is Gay, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Inuit Character, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Modern Era, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Road Trips, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Sokka (Avatar), Trans Zuko (Avatar), Transphobia, United States, it's yuetara lol, yeah theyre both trans die mad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25976035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticMob/pseuds/AutisticMob
Summary: After being disowned by his transphobic father, renowned congressman and oil company CEO Ozai, Zuko's only source of college tuition disappears out from under him. Left with nowhere else to go, his only choice is to skip town and move in with his uncle Iroh.Except that Iroh lives in New York City, almost three thousand miles away from Zuko's college dorm in Long Beach, California.With no car and few belongings, Zuko impulsively decides to hitchhike the length of the journey.Be it fate or luck or something else entirely, he just so happens to meet a kind stranger with a bright smile and a sparkle in his eyes Zuko has never known; a stranger driving across the country to return home for summer break in Canada's far north.Alternatively:Zuko realizes that sometimes, it's the journey that matters more than the destination.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 168





	the edge of oblivion (and other places to find love)

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I really enjoyed writing this. I worked hard on it, and it costs $0 to support gay authors writing m/m. 
> 
> That aside, this fic required _a lot_ of research, but I enjoyed all of it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks to my lovely readers and those who leave kudos and comments. Few things can rival the dopamine rush of coming on here and seeing something I poured my soul into with hundreds of reads, and that little (1) on my comments inbox. Your continued support means the world to me, and I truly wish I could thank every one of you personally. 
> 
> A special thank you to my friends, especially those from Kurta Clan who have constantly supported and encouraged me. I'm grateful to have such wonderful and loving people in my life who encourage me to pursue my hobby. I love each and every one of you more than I can say here.
> 
> With that out of the way, enjoy!

“Need help with that?” Mai asked. 

Zuko shook his head, swearing under his breath as he struggled to stuff all his belongings inside his single suitcase. 

“Should I take this down?” Mai gestured to a poster tacked on the wall that featured a rather suggestive image of KAT-TUN’s Jin Akanishi with his shirt unbuttoned. 

A dark blush bloomed across Zuko’s cheeks, filling his face with heat. “I can take care of it, Mai.”

“Jeez, you have more pretty boys on your wall than a teenage girl,” she laughed. 

“Yeah, well, I won’t be needing them for a while,” Zuko sighed in reply, running a hand through his shaggy black hair in irritation. For a moment, he thought about how much he could use a haircut, but the thought quickly disappeared as he told himself he'd just cut it himself when he got the chance.

Several moments of uncomfortable silence passed before Mai spoke up again. “Are you sure you don’t need a place to stay? My girlfriend and I can let you crash on our couch, even if it’s just for a few days.”

“No. Like I said, I just want to get on the road. I’m going to live with my uncle.”

“Uh, doesn’t your uncle live on the other side of the country?” 

Zuko glanced over his shoulder at her, hands pressed against the top of his suitcase to hold it shut as he fumbled with the zipper. “Yeah. He lives in New York. That’s why I want to leave as soon as I can.”

Mai clicked her tongue. “You’re a dumbass, going all the way there by yourself.”

Zuko shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do? Just stay here?”

“Nah, I just mean...a young gay trans guy travelling cross-country by himself is dangerous. If you get killed and they find your body in a ditch somewhere, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Mai said. 

“Oh, you’re right. Maybe I should just put all my surgery money towards buying a fucking car. Never mind the fact that something that shitty wouldn’t even get me to the Nevada border,” Zuko scoffed. 

Mai groaned, and Zuko could hear her rifling through one of her dresser drawers. “Whatever. I’m going out for a smoke. You’re welcome to join me, or not.”

“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out,” Zuko replied as Mai left. The heavy wooden door of their shared dorm room slammed closed behind her, leaving Zuko alone in the silence. 

He took his posters down, gritting his teeth at the images of handsome men who stared up at him from the glossy, lifeless surface of the paper. He put them into the front pocket of his suitcase and made a final check of the room. Scuffed wood floors and off-white walls were all that greeted him, followed by a wave of sadness that consumed his entire body. His regretful gaze lingered on the large trans flag that Mai had put up mounted on the wall during the campus’ Trans History Month. 

Zuko sighed and put on his hoodie, sure to lift the hood up over his head enough that it would conceal at least some of his face. He’d always hated the looks people gave him when they saw him for the first time, but covering his scar with concealer took too much time and effort that he didn’t have. Besides, he didn’t want to waste money on makeup when there was no changing how he looked. It had taken him years to accept the permanent facial disfigurement his father had thrust upon him, and years more to not actively hate it. He’d tried the concealer method in middle school, when he’d first gotten his scar, but it was painstaking and difficult and just left his face looking blotchy. 

If people wanted to stare, fine. It had gone from being embarrassing to flat-out annoying after a few years of dealing with it. 

He picked up his suitcase by its handle and left the room, making his way out into the humid evening air, warm with the first hints of summer. 

Mai stood a few feet away from the door, cigarette between her thin, pale fingers. 

“Hey.”

Her words seemed to disappear along with the gray wisps of smoke that clawed at the air. 

“Thanks for everything, Mai.”

Mai sighed. “Don’t mention it. You’d better keep in touch, or else I’ll fly up there and kick your ass in front of your uncle.”

Zuko forced a laugh.

“See ya.”

“Bye.”

Having almost finished his degree, he knew the campus like the back of his hand, meaning he found his way out of the housing section and made his way across the massive campus with ease.

For a moment, Zuko considered leaving by cutting through a small patch of woods behind the campus, but the thought of pulling his suitcase through several inches of leaf litter gave him a headache. Instead, he opted for the main sidewalk that led off the campus and down the road towards the small town a few miles away, as well as other facilities not directly situated on campus. 

He had no choice but to walk, as he figured being just outside of the local town would give him the best chance at finding a person he could ride with whilst also avoiding the many overpriced taxi services that all the students coming back from late night drinking binges relied on.

An hour later, Zuko found himself on the sidewalk outside of the small college town, no worse for wear than when he’d left, save for an uncomfortable layer of sweat that had collected beneath his binder. 

Zuko took a deep breath, exhaling a sigh as he extended his free arm and stuck out his thumb. He tried not to think about how dumb he looked as several cars drove past him, making no attempt at so much as acknowledging his existence. As the minutes passed, his irritation grew. He’d long since lost track of the number of cars that had driven past, and the sunset’s warm face now peered out from over the horizon, painting the clouds that inched past various shades of pink, orange, and yellow. 

Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe he was a fool for not accepting Mai’s invitation to stay with her and her girlfriend, even just for a few days. 

Or maybe it was just this place. Perhaps he’d been in this terrible, stupid county at university for too long. He’d gotten comfortable with living away from his father, relying on him solely to pay the cost of tuition, only to have the rug pulled out from under him. 

As the colors of sunset bled further into the blue sky above, consuming it and leaving pink, orange, yellow, red, and purple in its wake, worry too found its way into his mind and body, and he forgot the dull ache that radiated through his arm with more pressing matters on his mind. 

If someone didn’t pick him up, he’d have to sleep on the street. The idea filled him with dread as if an icy hand were clawing at his chest. 

Zuko had always expected it, sure, but the idea that it would ever be his reality had always seemed far away. The thing he’d only thought about in the uncomfortable moments where he sat too long with nothing but his mind as company had now forced itself to the forefront of his thoughts, a massive, looming wall that he hadn’t yet prepared himself to confront. 

And then it happened. 

An old-looking blue car slowed as it moved to the side of the road, pulling over beside Zuko. Before he could do anything, the owner of the car rolled down the window, and Zuko got a good look at him. 

He seemed to be a fellow college student around Zuko’s age, about average height with straight, black, short hair pulled into a small ponytail. His face was round but not soft, complimented by the gentle slope of his wide nose. His amber eyes were like golden-brown honey, a handsome compliment to his bronze skin.

How could he not commit a face like that to memory? 

Still, Zuko knew better than to let his guard down, the many hours he’d spent hunched in front of his laptop weighing the pros and cons of hitchhiking cross-country with a complete stranger still fresh in his mind. 

“Hey, do you need a ride? It’s getting kinda late,” the guy in the car asked as he turned down his radio. It had been playing some local shitty pop station, one Zuko had never cared about nor bothered to listen to. 

“You can put your stuff in the trunk. I’ll open it for ya!” 

Zuko nodded wordlessly, grabbing his suitcase and opening the trunk. He took a moment to glance into the back seat, remembering multiple stories he’d read online where fellow hitchhikers had let their guard down and become too careless to realize the person or people who’d been hiding in the back seat waiting to jump them. The idea made him shudder, and he craned his neck to glance through the window into the back seat. Zuko let out a small sigh of relief upon seeing nothing but luggage and other various things people brought with them on trips stuffed into the back, but he knew he wasn’t even close to safe yet. 

The trunk. 

Again, thoughts of a man hiding in the trunk with a knife or a gun waiting for the opportunity to jump out and attack him flooded his mind, and he took several steps back as the trunk popped open. 

“Do you need any help?” The mysterious stranger called from the front seat. 

“Uh, no...no, I got it. It’s...not very heavy,” Zuko replied as he clutched his suitcase handle, holding his breath for the few moments of agonizing anticipation that could determine whether he lived or died. 

All that stared back at him from the brown carpet of the trunk was a jumper cable and a few various car maintenance products.

Another sigh of relief fell from his lips as he lifted his suitcase and placed it in the back, slamming the trunk shut as he went around to the passenger side door. 

It was difficult not to notice all the small scratches and dents that littered the body of the car, but he did his best to be logical about it, attributing them to standard wear and tear after years of use. Even in his limited knowledge of cars, Zuko recognized it as an older model. 

He reluctantly opened the passenger side door and slid his bag off his shoulders, planting himself in the worn leather seat before placing his bag on the floor between his feet. 

The stranger offered a kind, bright smile and a hand, his wrist decorated with two of those little friendship bracelets woven from different colored strings, one in stripes of light blue, light pink, and white, and the other in stripes of a darker blue, purple, and magenta. Zuko wondered if their resemblance to the trans and bisexual flags were intentional or mere coincidence. 

“Hey! I’m Sokka.” 

Zuko hesitantly removed one hand from his hoodie pocket and pressed its sweaty palm against Sokka’s as they shook hands. “Zuko.”

“Cool name,” Sokka said as he pulled away from the sidewalk and merged back onto the small, two-lane road leading away from the town. 

As they drove, Sokka broke the silence with a question. “So...do you go to CSU? ‘Cause, I do, and I think it’s the best.”

Zuko nodded. “Yeah. I’m a political science major.”

“Sounds...uh...interesting…” 

Zuko shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Being autistic, he’d always struggled in reading other people’s body language and tone, but Sokka didn’t seem on edge or irritated. He scanned the area around him and saw no weapons in the immediate vicinity, which eased his nerves a bit. 

Upon receiving no answer, Sokka turned up the volume on his radio a bit before clearing his throat. “You’re welcome to mess with the AC if you want. Just don’t turn the heat on though. It’s hot as balls outside.”

“Okay.”

Silence, again. 

“So...where am I taking you?” Sokka questioned. 

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “Uh...just down the street a bit, I guess.”

“I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific.” Sokka’s tone became more insistent, but lacked any malice or rudeness. 

Overwhelmed, something inside Zuko snapped. “Look, I don’t know, okay?!”

Sokka cast a sidelong glance at him but remained silent, having taken Zuko’s sudden outburst as a demand to ease up on the questions. “Okay, jeez. No need to get so worked up,” he mumbled.

As the curtain of silence between them became more and more unbearable, Zuko cleared his throat to catch Sokka’s attention. “I...I’m sorry. I guess I’m just kind of overwhelmed right now.”

Sokka sighed. “How about you just tell me where you want me to take you, and we both pretend that whole thing just never happened?”

Zuko sighed, “honestly, that’s just it. I don’t know where I’m going. I didn’t exactly plan past...this.”

“Huh? You’re a polisci major and didn’t plan for the unexpected?” Sokka joked, his tone teasing and playful. “Well, whatever. You have plenty of time to figure it out, since I’m headed home to Nunavik.”

Zuko stared at him in disbelief. “Nunavik? Is that in...Canada?”

“Yeah, in the ‘providence’ that some people call ‘Quebec’.” He made scare quotes with his fingers as he held the steering wheel. He’d never thought of himself as a Quebecer or as a Canadian, but he knew that wasn’t how most people saw things.

Nunavik. 

“And you’re...driving there?” Zuko asked. 

Sokka laughed sheepishly. “Yeah. I can’t really afford a plane ticket. Besides, I kinda like the journey. It’s nice to sightsee and buy overpriced souvenirs, y’know?”

Zuko shook his head. “I don’t. I haven’t been out of the state since I was really little.”

Sokka wasn’t sure what to say to comfort this random guy who he barely knew, but he’d do his best. “Really? Whelp, better late than never.”

“I know I said I don’t know where I’m going, but...I sort of do. I guess I just meant I don’t know how I’ll get there.” Zuko realized then that he’d gone into this with zero plans besides hitching rides from kind strangers, hoping that he’d somehow end up in New York like his life was some kind of shitty Hallmark movie. 

“Where are you going?”

“New York. I’m going to live with my uncle.”

“I’ve never been to New York, but it’s always been on my list of places I’d really like to go before I die, right alongside Dallas, Washington DC, Anchorage, the Florida Keys, Cuba, Puerto Rico, Rhode Island, Washington DC…wait, did I already say that? Whatever, I’d also like to see plenty of other cool places. One time, my sister showed me this picture of the Grand Canyon, and…”

Zuko kind of zoned out as Sokka prattled off the different places he wanted to visit. He’d usually find that kind of thing annoying, but he was too exhausted to care. Instead, he made use of the time to consider his options. 

Sokka was going to Nunavik. New York was a small detour, although the map in his head was blurry at best. He could either travel the entire way with Sokka, or ask to be dropped off and find someone else who was most definitely _not_ going to Nunavik. The chances of finding anyone leaving the state were slim, let alone the chances of finding anyone traveling to New York. Zuko had struck theoretical gold with Sokka. The chances of finding anyone else headed even in the general direction of New York was next to none, let alone someone around his age who wasn’t a total creep or a serial killer, of which, so far, Sokka was neither. The idea of constantly changing cars scared him, especially if he was dropped off in an unsafe area or at night. His fear was compounded given the fact he was trans. If he were to be clocked, something horrible could happen. 

It was decided, then. 

He’d take his risks with Sokka. 

“...Hawai’i would be cool too, but kinda hot. So, what part of New York does your grandpa live in?”

“Uncle,” Zuko corrected, “and he lives in New York City.”

Sokka’s friendly smile spread into a wide grin. “Does that mean he’s rich?”

“Not especially. He runs a tea shop in Queens.” Zuko couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He’d watched the tea shop grow from a newly-renovated tiny streetside building to a full-fledged shop, celebrating every milestone through moments captured on shaky video. He took out his phone and scrolled through the large gallery of videos Iroh had sent him, ending each one with something along the lines of ‘I wish you could be here to see this’, although recently he’d changed it to ‘I can’t wait to see you’. 

“Aw maaaan,” Sokka sighed. “I wanted to meet your rich, tea-loving uncle.”

“Wait, I thought you said you were going to Nunavik? Why would you come to New York with me?”

Sokka shrugged. “I said I wanted to see New York City, remember?”

“I’m not a tour guide. Besides, I’m moving in with my uncle. Permanently.”

Sokka narrowed his eyes, “y’know, if your uncle likes you so much, why is he letting you travel across the country all by yourself?”

Zuko cast a sidelong glare at Sokka. “Do you think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, relax. All I’m sayin’ is it seems weird that he’d let you go alone, especially since you’re hitchhiking.”

“To be honest…” Zuko started, “he doesn’t know.”

Sokka almost slammed on the brakes as he came to a red light, the dusk that had enveloped the sky now turning to a dark blue, speckled with the first and brightest stars of the night. “What?! He doesn’t know you’re coming?!”

He sighed and pressed his head against the cold glass of the window, shielded only by the thin fabric of his hoodie. “No, he does. But...I kind of stretched the truth a little. I told him I was travelling with my roommate who has relatives in Maine. I do have a roommate, but that’s where it ends.”

“Oh. Well, I can just pretend to be your roommate. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kinda really good at acting. I played a reindeer in my third grade class’s performance of _Anarteq_.” He puffed his chest out a display of pride, as though he’d accomplished a great feat by parading around the small wooden stage in a cheap reindeer costume. 

“Uh...congrats, I guess? And that would work if you looked even remotely like my roommate, but you don’t. Also, my roommate is a girl.” He wanted to ask what the hell _Anarteq_ was, but he also didn’t care for another tangent. 

Sokka’s eyes lit up, and he glanced away from the road for a few seconds. “A girl? Is she pretty?”

“She’s okay, I guess...not really my type,” Zuko mumbled. He did feel a little bad for lying, but what he’d said was the truth. Mai _wasn’t_ his type, because his type was men. 

Sokka’s smile dropped, and the blue fire in his eyes vanished into nothing as he refocused on the road. “Oh...well, what does she look like?”

“Chinese goth girl. She has long, straight black hair, with black nails, and red lipstick and eyeliner. She smokes too.”

A mischievous smirk crept onto Sokka’s face. “Is she single? She sounds hot.”

“No.”

“Damn it,” Sokka grumbled under his breath. “Her boyfriend’s lucky.”

Zuko did his best to ignore the thin layer of sweat collecting on the back of his neck. “Yeah…”

‘Boyfriend.’

Anxiety churned in his stomach, and he was again reminded of how most of the world hated him for just existing. His memories dragged him back through the shadowy labyrinth of his mind, as if he needed another reminder as to why he was forced into this situation in the first place. 

“Or girlfriend. You never know,” Sokka gave a calm shrug.

“What?”

It was impossible for Sokka not to notice the terrified look on Zuko’s face out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, dude...are you okay?”

Zuko swallowed down the bile burning at the back of his throat that filled his mouth with a bitter, acrid taste. 

Or maybe it was the memory. 

Ozai’s disgust had been so visceral, and yet he’d acted as though he _expected_ it. His father’s dark, sharp, stern voice echoed through his mind. 

‘I always knew you were a disgusting tr—ny faggot.’

He’d heard it countless times, so why was it any different when it came from his father’s mouth? 

Maybe it was because he knew the exhausting game Ozai played. He seemed to relish in toeing the blurry line of anticipation at lashing out. 

Zuko knew his father could hurt him if he really wanted to. The one time he’d done it before was proof enough, even though he never did it again. It was in the way that he acted and spoke, the violent, dark aura that clung to him that filled Zuko with terror. 

He remembered the time Ozai had come dangerously close to punching a hole in the wall when Zuko had been in the same room. It wasn’t a stretch to believe, then, that he was showing what he was capable of. It wasn’t a stretch to believe it had been just some kind of sick power trip, a way of reminding Zuko of his place in the family. 

Insidious. A sort of physio-emotional gradual increase of heat, like a frog in a pot of water, but the violence never came. Instead, the pressure continued to build with no end in sight. 

It was worse than boiling to death; that sick, choking anticipation. 

It would’ve been better if Ozai just did it, and the both of them knew it. 

That was why he didn’t. 

“Zuko!” Sokka’s hand on his shoulder ripped him away from the memory.

“What?”

“Are you okay? You look like you’re gonna be sick.” Sokka’s lips pressed into a concerned frown.

Zuko nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

He’d spoken too soon. His sweaty hands fumbled with the stupid, tiny button that rolled down the window as he forced his head out into the warm night air. The darkness that enveloped the car warped and twisted like an ocean of shadows. Other cars raced past, their red and white lights burning his eyes with just how painfully _bright_ they were. 

His entire body ached, and the once fruity, saccharine taste of the alcohol he’d drank for dinner earlier came back up as liquid regret. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and the blackness from outside superimposed itself around the edges of his vision. 

‘Don’t pass out.’

That was all he could tell himself. 

A few moments of stabbing pain in his stomach passed before he was able to breathe again. Despite the temperature of the air and the unpleasant smell that hung in it, he drew in several long, deep breaths, chest and sinus still burning. 

He pulled his head back into the car and put his hood down before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“That doesn’t seem okay to me,” Sokka said. 

“I...guess I just felt motion sick,” Zuko laughed weakly as he pressed his head against the headrest. 

“If you say so.” Sokka wondered if that was really the case, but he didn’t pry. “Anyways, my bladder is killing me and I _really_ gotta take a piss, so I’m gonna find a gas station and pull over. You can get out if you want.”

Zuko glanced over at him. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I’m not letting you.”

A shot of adrenaline burst into his veins. “What?”

“Wait, I just realized how creepy that sounded. I swear I’m not a serial killer. The only thing I kill is my gran-gran’s seal jerky,” he chuckled. 

“You know,” Zuko groaned at the sudden jolt of pain that struck his stomach, “if you have to say you aren’t a serial killer, that doesn’t make you look that good.”

“Look, what I meant is that you just puked everywhere, and it’s dark out there. It’d be negligent of me to just let you go. Besides, night is when the serial killers are most active. Er—I mean, probably. That’s how it is in all those true crime stories,” the rhythmic clicking of his turn signal underscored his voice. 

“You aren’t doing yourself any favors right now, Sokka,” Zuko said as they pulled into the dimly-lit parking lot of a small Shell station. 

Sokka pulled into one of the empty parking spots. “Right. I should just shut up.”

He threw the door open as he shifted the car into park, tearing the keys out of the ignition before rushing inside. If Zuko had been in a better mood, maybe the sight would’ve made him laugh. 

He exited the car and took a moment to stretch, stifling a yawn as he stole a quick glance at his phone. It was almost 10 PM.

As he leaned against the car door, Sokka’s earlier comments trickled back into his mind like the beginnings of a rainstorm. Surely the serial killer thing had just been an off-color joke. 

What serial killer would joke about being one? 

Zuko opened the driver’s side door and turned on his phone’s flashlight as he searched for a weapon. He dug through the console as well as the glove compartment and found nothing except for an old all-purpose Swiss army knife stashed away in the back of the glove compartment. He checked under Sokka’s seat, and then his own. 

Nothing. 

He breathed a sigh of relief, but froze as he heard the gas station door open behind him. 

“Hey, uh, Zuko? What are you doing?” 

Zuko recognized Sokka’s distinctive slight accent, and the blood in his veins turned to ice. 

“I thought I dropped my earbuds,” he stammered out.

“Did you find them?” He asked as he approached the car. 

“Ah, I just realized they were in my pocket the whole time...” Zuko forced an uncomfortable smile and turned to face Sokka. 

With concern written across his face, Sokka narrowed his eyes. “Are you _sure_ you’re okay? You look a little... pale...and, uh...sweaty.”

“I’m fine.” Except that he wasn’t, and there was very little he wouldn’t give to take a nap at that moment. 

“Okay.” He shrugged, “here, this is yours,” Sokka pressed a cold can of...something into his hand. Zuko looked down at it and recognized the green can right away. 

Ginger ale. 

The strange act of kindness sent a wave of guilt washing over him. All he’d done up to this point was get sick outside Sokka’s car, be rude, and lie to him. 

“Don’t drink too much of it, ‘K? We’re almost to the motel, but...I still don’t wanna have to stop again so you can pee,” Sokka said as he put the key into the ignition. 

Zuko climbed into the passenger seat, his hand numb from the coldness of the can. “Wait, motel…?”

“Uh, yeah? I am _not_ driving these roads past midnight. Have you seen how people drive out here? Besides,” he paused to yawn, “I’m pretty tired, and I know my dad would chew me out for being so reckless.”

Right. That was what dads were _supposed_ to do. They were supposed to care about their children. 

At least Iroh cared. Iroh made sure to text him every day, regardless of how busy his shop was. Despite everything, he always took a few moments out of his day to tell Zuko how much he meant to him. The two talked over the phone or FaceTime at least once a week, and as much as he hated to admit it, Iroh was just about the only thing that kept him going.

“You should let me pay for it,” Zuko said. He knew Sokka might be resistant, but it was the least he could do to repay him for his kindness. 

“Okay. Thanks,” Sokka said. 

“Wait, you aren’t going to insist that you can pay?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Like I said, I don’t have a lot of money, so it helps me. Besides, it’s not like we’re staying at a fancy hotel.”

Zuko nodded. “I have a little extra money stored away, so it’s no problem.” When Ozai had kicked him out a few days prior, Zuko awoke to find that all the money in his bank account had been transferred to his father’s account. 

But he wasn’t as stupid as Ozai thought. Several months prior, he’d opened a second, secret joint bank account with Iroh in case that exact thing happened. Over the course of a few months, he’d transferred many small sums of money into the joint account under the guise of spending it on school-related fees and activities. It wasn’t a significant amount, but it was enough to get by for a few months without dipping into his precious top surgery fund. 

Zuko leaned back in the seat and took a sip of the ginger ale. “How long are we staying here, exactly?”

“Just tonight. I don’t like driving at night, but I also want to get back on the road, since there’s a place I really want to go tomorrow.”

An uneasy hand clawed at Zuko’s chest. “Where?”

“It’s called Mojave National Preserve. It’s a good place to go hiking and stuff. Last year, my sister, her girlfriend, and three of our mutual friends all went there for a week during Christmas break. We went camping and hiking, and I ate so much I think I almost went into a coma. It was awesome,” a large grin spread across his face at the pleasant memory. “Plus, it’s pretty close to the California-Nevada border.”

The idea of going camping with a complete stranger churned his stomach. If Sokka wanted to kill him, he could. In such a vast space, it would be easy to kill someone and dispose of their body somewhere out in the desert where vultures would eat it before anyone filed a missing persons report. 

To add insult to injury, Zuko knew that, if he were to go missing, he could count the people who would realize on one hand. 

Depressing, but he tried to force the thought from his mind. Even Iroh wouldn’t suspect anything until his calls and texts went unanswered.

That was an oversight on Zuko’s part, and he’d have to accept responsibility for it whether he wanted to or not. He’d told Iroh that he and Mai were headed to Maine, but that they expected to make a few stops at some well-known tourist sites along the way. 

Still, he reminded himself that Sokka didn’t have a weapon. He’d been nothing but nice to Zuko, even going so far as to buy him a soda at the gas station. Also, it would be nothing short of stupid for Sokka to let him pay for a motel with his card. That thought allowed him a small bit of respite, but he wouldn’t let his guard down until he knew he could trust Sokka. 

There was something else. 

He’d mentioned his sister had a girlfriend, and made no remarks about it. Zuko wondered if he should try and press Sokka a little more. His years of living in the closet around Ozai had made him an expert at testing the waters of homophobia. 

“Your sister’s girlfriend, huh?” He said hesitantly. 

Sokka side-eyed him. “Yeah, my sister is pansexual. Got a problem with that? If so, we won’t get along.”

Zuko raised his hands in a defensive motion. “No, no. I...I’m gay, actually. I just wanted to see how you’d respond to me bringing up the fact that your sister had a girlfriend.”

“Really? I’m bisexual,” Sokka chirped. He lifted his right hand from the steering wheel and thrust his wrist towards Zuko, the bracelets he’d taken note of earlier on full display. 

“I noticed those,” Zuko said. 

Confusion spread across Sokka’s face. “Then why didn’t you say anything earlier?” 

“What are you getting upset over?!” Zuko folded his arms across his chest, “I didn’t want to say anything and end up being wrong. I was looking out for myself in a world that would rather see people like me dead.”

Sokka shook his head. “Right, sorry. That was...uncalled for. I know what it feels like to have people hate you. But you don’t need to be a jerk about it.”

Zuko scoffed. “Whatever. You’re trans, right? You should know how it feels to be hated even in your own community.”

“Yeah. I am trans, and of course I know what it’s like.”

A painful, electric moment of silence passed, tension like fog between the two of them so thick that it could almost be cut with a knife. 

“You’re trans too, aren’t you?” Sokka asked. His voice was soft and bordering on sad. 

“What’s it to you?”

“You basically just admitted it!”

Zuko wanted to cry. “Yes, okay, you got me, I’m trans. Happy?”

“Got you? Dude, relax. Like I said, I’m trans too. It’s not a ‘gotcha’,” Sokka retorted. 

The short rest of the car ride was silent, save for the quiet music crackling out of the old dashboard radio. Zuko stared out the window and through the dark blue curtain of night, watching as a small, dimly-lit and flickering motel sign came into view. As they pulled into the parking lot, Sokka turned on the light at the front of his car. “Make sure you get your shit. This place is kinda seedy, and I don’t wanna be responsible if someone breaks into my car when we’re sleeping.”

“Kinda?” Zuko snorted as he picked up his backpack and slung it over one shoulder. 

“Okay, more than kinda. But it’s only one night, and we’ll leave as soon as possible. I don’t wanna stay here any more than you do,” Sokka replied as he exited the car and went around to the back driver's side door. He began to rifle through his things and stuffed most of it beneath the back seat, putting the rest of it into a trunk save for a single bag, which he shrugged on as he closed the door. 

“Leaving your suitcase?”

“No, my clothes are in there,” he said as he watched Sokka open the trunk. Zuko grabbed his suitcase and made for the entrance of the motel. 

Sokka closed the trunk and locked his car before following Zuko into the motel.

Inside, the sickly yellow halogen lights buzzed loudly above a stained carpet and walls covered in wallpaper that looked as though it had come straight out of someone’s grandmother’s house. A young woman that seemed to be around their age stood at the counter on her phone, tapping away at the screen. 

Sokka elbowed Zuko, getting his attention as he leaned in to whisper to him. “Y’know, I bet this place is haunted.”

Zuko nodded. That _was_ within the realm of possibility, and the strange brown stains he noted on the wall no longer seemed innocent. 

Sokka cleared his throat and sauntered up to the reception counter. 

“Hello,” he said as he put on a cool smile. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

“I don’t get paid enough to deal with shit like this,” the woman muttered, her eyes remaining fixed on her phone. “What do you want? We’re at capacity tonight, so all we have is one room.”

Sokka looked taken aback, his smile twisting into a frown. “Uh...just the one room then, I guess?”

The woman looked up from her phone for a moment before letting out an annoyed sigh and returning to her phone. “How long?”

“Just tonight, although...for you, I’d stay a thousand years.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Cash or card?”

Sokka looked over his shoulder at Zuko, who fumbled for his wallet in the pocket of his black ripped jeans. 

“Card,” he said as he approached the counter and opened his wallet. He produced his debit card and placed it on the counter. The woman continued to stare down at her phone as she picked up the card and swiped it, entering something into an old-looking dusty computer beside her. She returned his card and turned around to pluck one of the sets of keys off the rusted key rack behind her. The single silver key was spotted with rust stains, and attached to its ring was a faded and yellowed tag with ‘08’ scrawled onto it in marker. 

“Just outside, four doors down. Checkout is at 10.” the woman said as she thrust the keys towards the two. Sokka took them and thanked her, to no response. 

Zuko and Sokka left the reception area and made their way to the room in silence. 

When they reached the faded red door of room 08, Sokka slid the key into the doorknob and opened it, stepping inside and smacking his hand around on the wall to the right in search of a light switch. As his fingers brushed over their target, he flipped the light on and let out a nervous laugh. 

“What is it?” Zuko asked as he craned his neck to look over Sokka’s shoulder. 

“Uh...there’s...a slight problem…” Sokka murmured. 

Zuko shoved past and into the room, noticing the problem as soon as he did. Towards the center of the tiny room was a single full bed. 

Heat spread through Zuko’s cheeks and up into his ears like a wildfire. “Uh…”

A loud, defeated sigh came from Sokka as he stepped into the room and closed the door, locking it. “Let’s at least keep the bugs out,” he mumbled halfheartedly. 

“What are we supposed to do?! I think...I think that lady must’ve misinterpreted our relationship.”

Sokka muttered something inaudible under his breath as he tossed his bag onto the old armchair positioned next to a faded wooden table covered in cup rings. 

Zuko shrugged off his backpack and placed it on the ground, leaving his suitcase beside it. “I can go ask for another room,” he suggested. 

Sokka shook his head, “remember what the receptionist lady said? They’re somehow at capacity tonight.”

Zuko groaned and sat down on the bed, and it creaked beneath his weight. “Right. I mean, this road is pretty busy, and it’s in a prime location for people who’ve been travelling all day to stop, but…”

Sokka shuddered. “Eugh, this place is so creepy. I don’t even want to _think_ about how many babies have been conceived on that bed.”

Zuko cringed and tucked his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, no longer wanting to touch the blanket.

“So...what should we do? I’m exhausted,” Zuko said as he ran a hand through his loose black haid, tucking some of it behind his good ear before glancing up at Sokka. 

Sokka shrugged and angrily began to pace back and forth across the floor. “There’s not even a couch! I have a sleeping bag, but it’s out in the car, and I really don’t wanna be dealing with back pain all day tomorrow. Plus...I don’t want to find out what that stain on the floor is.”

Zuko glanced over his shoulder at the mysterious reddish-brown stain on the carpet, and a chill shot up his spine. All he could think about were the countless stories he’d heard of people, usually women, being killed in motels, their bodies left behind for workers to find.

“I guess we’ll have to ‘no homo’ it,” Sokka sighed. 

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose but conceded. It wasn’t like he had any better ideas. There was no couch, and neither of them wanted to deal with the day’s worth of back pain that would come from sleeping on the floor covered in strange substances. 

“Fair warning, I toss and turn. And sometimes I fall out of bed at night.”

“Great,” Zuko muttered. 

“Hey! Nobody’s perfect,” Sokka retorted. “Anyways, I’m gonna go change.”

He unzipped his bag and dug through it, producing a set of clothes before disappearing into the bathroom. Even through the door, Zuko heard Sokka screech.

“Oh fuck no!” Sokka hissed, followed by several thumps before he came stumbling out of the bathroom, dressed in an oversized navy blue T-shirt with ‘NUNAVIK’ printed on it in distressed white letters and black, plain shorts. 

“What happ—”

Sokka gasped and clutched at his chest. “I saw...a-a-a...a cockroach.” 

Zuko shook his head at Sokka’s dramatics and slid off the bed. He got his night clothes out of his suitcase and went into the bathroom. The single yellow bulb that dangled from the ceiling buzzed loudly as a small moth circled around it. He did his best to ignore it as he changed into clothes similar to Sokka’s, a too-big T-shirt that hid his chest well and some old workout shorts that he’d never actually used for working out. He glanced at his face in the dingy, rusted mirror above the sink. 

“You look like shit,” he muttered to himself. Dark circles had formed under his eyes from stress, and his eyes themselves had become bloodshot. His shaggy black hair was messy and unkempt, and the usual rosy undertone that he took solace in at least being able to see on his good side had faded, so he now just seemed pallid, his tan skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Eager to get out of the bathroom, he collected his clothes and left, tossing them on top of his suitcase. 

“Can you get the light?” Sokka asked as Zuko made for the bed. He nodded and turned off the light, plummeting the room into darkness. A soft click came as Sokka turned on the lamp beside the bed. It gave off just enough light that he could see a few feet in front of him as he crawled into the bed. 

Sokka did the same, grateful that his umber skin hid the blush pooling in his cheeks as he slid beneath the blankets.

“Checkout’s not until 10, can I watch some TV?” Sokka asked. 

Zuko stared at him. “You want to watch TV?”

Sokka nodded. “I’m too tired to drive but not tired enough to sleep.”

“Sure. Whatever. Just keep it down,” Zuko muttered as he turned onto his side with his back towards Sokka. He pressed his face into the flat, lumpy pillow, exhaustion weighing heavy on his eyelids and making his body feel as though it were made of lead. Beside him, Sokka fumbled for the remote and flipped on the old, CRT TV. It buzzed to life in a burst of static before the grainy footage of some American movie Sokka had never seen before appeared on the screen. 

As Zuko entered the state between dreams and reality, and the quiet voices from the TV turned into a river of garbled, muffled sound, his eyes fluttered closed. Exhaustion overtook him in almost record time, and he fell asleep despite the light and noise from the TV in the background.

He sat in a room.

A dull, dim room, where all the colors were washed out as though he’d been transported into an old sepia photo. 

A kitchen. He knew because he was seated at a table, and he could see the stove beside him. An uncomfortable, creeping terror clawed at his stomach. 

Something was wrong. 

He blinked, and a kettle appeared on the stove. One of the burners had caught fire, and a thick plume of grey smoke rose into the air and began to collect around the ceiling. 

Zuko tried to stand. He tried to move, but his body was frozen. He tried to open his mouth and say something or scream, but again, nothing. Flames rose up from the stove and began to leak from the now open oven door. 

He blinked again, unwillingly, and the kettle was in front of him, screaming so loud that it made his ears ring. On the placemat was a single cup of tea, in which he could see his reflection, albeit warped on the spinning, churning surface of the liquid. 

His face. 

His _unscarred_ face. His left eye was wide and had its full range of motion, and the skin was clean and smooth and tan like the rest of it. 

Behind him, pillars of smoke reached upwards as they searched for an escape, and flames enveloped the chair he was seated in. They moved in but didn’t touch him, their heat dancing across his already sweaty skin. 

And then, it happened. The flames covered the left side of his face with their white, searing hot pain. Zuko swore he could feel it in every nerve of his face, but his body wouldn’t let him pass out and spare him the agony. Instead, he somehow held on to his consciousness as the skin of his face burned, layer by layer until a strange mixture of blood and clear fluid poured down his jaw. 

Everything went black, condensing down into a single point as he bolted upright in bed, cold sweat coating his skin and his throat sore from screaming. 

“Zuko?”

Sokka’s hoarse, tired voice came from beside him. 

Zuko reached up to touch the left side of his face, his hand trembling as his fingers lightly brushed over the uneven, bumpy scar tissue that took up most of the left side of his face. 

Nothing. 

But what was there was shame. It rose up in his stomach, twisting and writhing like a venomous snake.

“I…”

Breathing made his lungs and chest burn. 

“Are you...okay?” Sokka asked. 

“Don’t touch me,” Zuko commanded, but his voice broke as he tried to say it and the shame from his stomach flooded his throat and left his mouth tasting like iron. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I...should’ve said something, I know.”

A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks and fell onto the blanket, but he knew it was too dark for Sokka to see. 

“No, just...you scared me, that’s all. It sounded like someone was being murdered.”

Zuko tried to laugh, but he couldn’t. “I know. I…” he swallowed thickly, knowing he should provide an explanation for what had just happened. 

“I have pretty bad nightmares,” he started, drawing in an agonizing breath. It was as though a thousand needles were all piercing his lungs at once, and even just speaking seemed impossible. 

Sokka remained silent as Zuko struggled to collect himself. “I have PTSD, if that wasn’t obvious. That’s why it happens.”

He wished he could disappear. He squeezed his eyes closed and wished he could be someplace else where he didn’t have to talk or think about anything painful ever again. “When I was younger, my dad got mad at me for something silly. There was something cooking in oil on the stove, and…that’s why my face looks like it does now.”

Sokka could hear Zuko’s shaking, struggling breathing beside him, ragged and desperate. “You don’t have to tell me everything about your trauma,” he reassured.

Sokka watched Zuko’s dark form return to its previous position, back facing towards him. “Sorry you had to find out this way.”

Zuko wondered to himself how he could still be so fucked up, even after so much time had passed. Why hadn’t the ghosts of his past stopped haunting him? It was over, so why had his traumatic memories overstayed their welcome?

He was mostly just...ashamed. More than anything, the feeling of being so vulnerable made him want to be sick. It was why he slept alone when he could. His trauma was private, and being forced to explain it to others felt borderline voyeuristic. He’d always been a private person, and that included the painful moments of his life. 

He could feel Sokka’s gaze boring into him. “Go to sleep. I promise I won’t wake you up again,” Zuko muttered. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Stop talking and let me rest. I’m exhausted.”

“Okay. G’night,” Sokka said. 

Zuko listened to the sound of the blankets rustling beside him as he closed his eyes and did his best to relax. It had always been difficult for him to fall back asleep after waking up from a nightmare, so all he could do for the time being was stare up at the ceiling. 

He glanced over at Sokka, who was fast asleep with his mouth agape, a small puddle of drool on the pillow beneath him. The corners of his lips turned upwards into a smile, and he mumbled something in his native tongue that Zuko couldn’t understand.

Even when barely audible, there was a strange beauty about it. A language of long, flowing strings of words carved by the glaciers and mountains at the edge of the world, jagged and sharp, unforgiving but not unkind.

Sokka extended his leg and kicked Zuko in the thigh. He smacked his lips and expended his arms, clutching Zuko’s arm like a scared child. 

He knew it was going to be a long night.

  


* * *

  


Sokka had never been one to keep a consistent sleeping schedule. Even after leaving his home in Salluit, where the light sometimes only lasted a few hours or all day, he became a college student, and his sleeping schedule remained unpredictable.

He awoke at around 7 AM, and opened his eyes to gaze upon Zuko’s peaceful, sleeping face a few inches from his own. 

It was the first good look he’d gotten at him, even in spite of the gray darkness that enveloped the room. His soft-looking black hair poured over the sides of his face, messy from his fitful sleep the night prior, and Sokka couldn’t help but laugh as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

Admittedly, he couldn’t help but study Zuko’s scar. He’d noticed it upon first seeing him, of course, as it was impossible _not_ to. Thanks to the medical knowledge he’d gained from helping Katara study for her nursing exams, he could tell that the oil had burned through several layers of skin, especially around his left eye. It was obvious that his eyelashes and eyebrow would never regrow.

It must’ve been agonizing, and looking at it made Sokka wonder what kind of home life he’d had, or why he was even going to live with his uncle in the first place. Still, it wasn’t his place to ask. If Zuko wanted him to know, he would tell him. 

With that, he sat up and stretched, yawning as he did so. He slid out of bed and got ready for the day, looking himself over in the mirror as he brushed his teeth and put his hair up. Pride radiated through him as he stared at the fading pink keyhole scars on his chest. All the hard work he’d put in that culminated in that day in the operating room replayed in his mind like a slideshow. He saw the grueling work he’d done at many a minimum wage job. He saw the love and support his community gave to him, and the money they worked hard to raise to help him afford his surgery. He saw the Cree surgeon with his kind smile and gentle words, a man that Sokka had sought out for the sole reason that he didn’t trust a non-indigenous person with his body. He saw his recovery, and Hakoda sleeping in a chair beside his hospital bed as he visited him. 

A loud knock interrupted his thoughts. “Sokka, are you almost done? I have to get ready,” Zuko said. 

“Right,” he sighed as he opened the bathroom door. 

“Thanks,” Zuko said as he pushed past and into the bathroom, closing the door. 

Sokka changed into some comfortable clothes for the day ahead, a blue and black striped T-shirt and some khaki shorts. As he waited for Zuko, he produced his phone from his pocket and texted his father, who he knew was awaiting his arrival with bated breath. He scrolled through some of their older conversations from a few days prior—all in Inuktitut—and smiled at the fond memories. 

‘hey dad!’

‘Hey son. How's California treating you?’

‘its nice, but I miss home. how was the hunt? catch anything good?’

‘Fishing’s not too good this year, but you take what nature gives you. Everyone here misses you, Sokka. We can’t wait to see you again. Will you be home for the caribou hunt?’

‘I wouldnt miss it for the world, dad. I miss everyone too. I cant wait to taste gran gran’s delicious food again. its crazy how much I miss good old country food. the only one around here who can do it is katara.’

‘Katara...how is she?’

‘good. shes doing really good, but I think she misses home too. california is nothing like salluit.’

‘It’s a shame she had to stay behind.’

‘yeah, but shes working really hard, and shes going to use her skills to help our community.’

‘I know. I’m so proud of both of you.’

‘thanks dad.’

‘Stay safe, Sokka. I’ll see you soon.’

‘see you soon.’

Zuko opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the room. He wore a red and gray ¾ sleeve raglan shirt and gray, acid-washed jeans with ripped knees. 

“Are you ready to leave? We should probably find a place to eat. I was just talking with my dad, and he started talking about fish, and now I’m hungry,” Sokka laughed. 

“The sooner we leave this place, the better.”

Sokka nodded. The two of them grabbed their bags and left the room, packing their things into the car before returning the key to the front desk. After that, they left the motel and continued on their trip, and Zuko watched eagerly as the rusty old motel sign got smaller and smaller before disappearing in the rearview mirror. 

“Let’s never go back there,” Zuko said. 

Sokka nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Anyways, what do you wanna eat?”

Zuko shrugged. “I don’t really care.”

“How’s pizza sound?” 

“Sure.”

“I bet the pizza in New York is way better,” he sighed, salivating at the thought of the delicious cheesy goodness. There were no pizza places anywhere near Salluit.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never had it,” Zuko replied, although he couldn’t deny that it did sound appealing. New York was well-known for having excellent pizza, after all. 

“So...I was thinking...would you want to go to Mojave National Preserve?” Sokka asked, avoiding Zuko’s gaze. 

Silence. 

As Zuko pondered it, turning the question over and over in his mind like a stone in a river, he remembered his small group of friends and the few times they’d invited him to hang out. His mind pulled him back to all the times he’d wished he’d done more. 

College was supposed to be the best years of one’s life. It was supposed to be the fleeting, blurry line between the end of teenagehood and the start of true adulthood. 

“We could get some booze, too, if that’d make it more interesting. I’m not a big drinker, but I know how to have some fun.”

Zuko wasn’t sure when he’d be in California again. New York was all the way across the country. When would he get this chance again?

“Sure.”

“Really?” Sokka grinned. 

“Yeah. I’ve never been camping before. It sounds fun,” Zuko said. He watched as Sokka pulled into the parking lot of a small local pizza shop. 

“Alright, awesome. We’re here, so let’s eat, and then we’ll head there.”

They entered the restaurant and ate in relative silence, although Zuko found the taste of the pizza soured by a cute but annoying crying child in the booth behind them. 

After they ate, the two of them bought some alcohol to spice up their camping adventure before heading to the National Preserve. They drove around until sunset, marveling at the plentiful, stunning natural views, and taking plenty of photos. As dusk filled the sky above, they made their way to one of the camping areas and set up the tent Sokka had packed into the back of his car. 

“Yeah, I came prepared!” Sokka boasted as he wiped the sweat from his brow. 

“I can tell,” Zuko huffed as he brushed his hands together in an attempt to be rid of the dust all over them. 

“Y’know, for a guy who’s never set up a tent before, you did pretty good.”

“Thanks...I think.”

Sokka laughed and produced the box of alcohol he’d bought prior, placing it on the picnic table. He sat down opposite Zuko and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. 

“Uh...we don’t have any cups, so…” he shrugged and removed the cap, pressing his lips against the mouth of the bottle and taking a long swig. 

“Woooo! Try this,” Sokka said as he thrust the bottle towards Zuko, who took it and downed a shot, the intense alcohol flavor dancing across his tongue and setting his throat and sinuses alight. 

“Whoa…” the aftertaste was less bad, and he took another sip of it, the smooth flavor filling him with a strange warmth. 

A hand reaching for the bottle signaled to Zuko that it was time to give it up. 

“Should we start a fire?” Sokka asked before taking a sip of the bourbon. 

Zuko shrugged. “There’s not much wood.”

Sokka squinted at the small pile of charred logs in the fire ring. “It’ll be enough for tonight. Besides, we’re leaving tomorrow morning. I wanna go to Las Vegas, which is about an hour or so from here.”

Zuko rose to his feet. “Give me a light.”

“Huh? Do I look like I have a lighter?”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you shitting me? You have all that camping stuff, you have to have a lighter.”

Sokka let out a quiet groan of protest as he held the bourbon in one hand and rifled through his bag with the other. “Here,” he said as he tossed the lighter to Zuko. 

“Give it,” he reached for the bottle, which Sokka reluctantly handed over. 

Zuko chased down several shots at once before splashing a bit of the alcohol onto the logs. 

“What are you doing?! That’s crazy dangerous.” Sokka cried. 

“Relax, these logs suck and we need a firestarter.”

Sokka whined and stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated caricature of a pout, but said nothing as he watched Zuko reach down to light the fire.

“ _Chikushou_ 1!” Zuko hissed and jumped back as the flames licked at his fingertips. In his surprise, the bottle he’d been holding moments earlier slipped from his hand and shattered.

Sokka looked at the bottle for a moment before turning to look at Zuko, seated across him on the picnic bench as he looked over his seared fingers, sharp lines of worry drawn into his face. 

“Hey, you okay?” Sokka asked, stealing a final, sad glance at the broken bourbon bottle. It had been mostly empty when Zuko had dropped it anyways, so he didn’t consider it too big of a loss. 

“I’m fine,” Zuko mumbled.

A smug grin came onto Sokka’s face. “Want another drink?”

Zuko shrugged. 

“Is your hand okay?”

“Yeah, just...I guess I should be more careful next time,” he sighed. “Pass me another drink.”

Sokka nodded and pushed the box towards him. Zuko looked through it and pulled out a bottle of tequila. “You want some?”

Sokka shook his head. “I...shouldn’t.”

Confusion spread across Zuko’s face. “Just a minute ago you were having a great time downing that bourbon,” he said as he removed the top and took a sip of it. 

“Yeah, but...I saw the way alcoholism ruined a lot of people I love, both in my family and in my larger community.” Sokka’s gaze became distant as he stared out over the mountains, the orange light of the fire dancing across his skin. 

Zuko put the bottle down. “I see…”

“I don’t want that to be me, you know? Like I said, our community lost many elders to it, and I can understand why. They were part of the generation who literally had their culture stolen from them...they were punished for speaking the only language they knew, and were forced to leave behind the only life they knew and the culture they loved being a part of. I mean, even my _dad_ remembers that kind of stuff. It’s no wonder they turned to drinking later in life. All that on top of our communities being underfunded after having our resources and land stolen from us, global warming and pollution making it hard to do the hunting and fishing we both rely on to survive and use as a way of connecting to who we are as Inuit, and countless other things. I’m lucky enough to be able to balance my college career and still engage with my culture, and I want to be a positive influence, I guess. I want to see my community and my culture thrive, and if that means not drinking too much, it’s a small price to pay.”

“Yeah,” Zuko nodded. “My grandfather, Azulon, told my uncle stories about what happened in the internment camps.”

“Jesus,” Sokka breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I never knew him, and apparently he wasn’t that great of a father anyways,” Zuko shrugged. 

“Are you Japanese?” 

“I’m mixed. My mom is Chinese, and my dad is Japanese. My sister and I were both born and raised here though, so I guess I’m also American, but...I’m not super connected to my heritage like you are.”

Sokka smiled. “You know, a good way to connect with it is to learn the language...or...languages, I guess, in your case.”

“I already know them. My Japanese is fluent, but I haven’t used my Chinese in a while, not since my mom—” he stopped. He didn’t want to open that can of worms again. 

Not yet, at least. 

He cleared his throat. “You know...I’m kind of tired. I think I’m gonna go to sleep.”

Sokka opened his mouth to protest, but let Zuko go. “Uh...okay. Sleep well.”

Zuko nodded and went into the tent, zipping it up. He changed into his makeshift pajamas and slid into his sleeping bag. 

He wasn’t actually tired, but he knew if he started talking about Ursa he wouldn’t be able to stop, and he didn’t want to burden Sokka, someone he barely knew, with his personal problems. 

He wasn’t ready. 

Not yet.

  


* * *

  


Zuko awoke to morning sunshine streaming in through the thin walls of the tent. He groaned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

Beside him, curled in on himself and clutching his pillow, Sokka slept, his rhythmic breathing punctuated by snoring. 

“Sokka,” Zuko poked him through his sleeping bag. 

“Mmmm… _tuttuminiq_ 2... _mamaqsaqtunga_ 3...” Sokka mumbled.

“Sokka, get up,” Zuko said. 

“ _Suna?!_ 4”

“I don’t know what you just said, but…” he pulled out his phone and looked at the time. 8:21.

“It’s almost 8:30. Didn’t you say you wanted to see Las Vegas?”

“How the fuck is it already morning?” Sokka groaned as he sat up and let out a hiss of pain as he rubbed his back. “Ugh...I’m hungry…”

“Let’s take turns changing, and we can leave. I’m sure there will be plenty of places to eat,” Zuko reassured as he opened the tent flap and gestured for Sokka to leave. He got his clothes and changed as quickly as possible, letting Sokka go next. 

His outfit of choice for the day was a simple black, relaxed fit shirt with cuffed light blue pants. Loud shuffling and the rustling of fabric came from inside the tent before Sokka stumbled out, dressed in a dark green shirt with Inuktitut text printed on the breast pocket and gray joggers with the same text printed down the side of either leg. 

The two of them packed their sleeping bags away and broke the tent down, eager to find a place to eat before they both passed out from hunger and the intense Mojave desert heat. After Sokka packed the box of alcohol beneath the back seat, they left the National Preserve and stopped for what they both assumed would be their last In-N-Out burger in a while.

By some miracle, Sokka managed to find a space in an overpriced parking garage at the edge of the city. They crisscrossed busy streets and made their way to 5100 Las Vegas Boulevard South with the help of Zuko’s phone GPS. Of course, both of them took photos of the famous, classic ‘Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas’ sign. 

“What do you wanna do now?” Sokka asked. 

“I don’t know.”

“The club and bar queer culture is happenin’ here, apparently,” Sokka smirked.

“Really? I’ve...never been to anything like that. The most I’ve ever done was attend GSA a few times,” Zuko admitted. “But I’m not exactly a ‘party’ type guy.”

“Aww, Zuko, c’mon! Let’s just do it once and say we did it!”

“It’s daytime right now. Let’s go tonight, if you want to go so bad,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m...a little overwhelmed by everything, so...we should do something not too high-stress.”

Sokka’s smile dropped, his lips pressing into a frown. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just...so many things are happening.”

Sokka put a finger to his chin and narrowed his eyes as he glanced around. 

“Hey, how about that! And we can just walk and enjoy the sights while we walk there,” Sokka pointed to a massive ferris wheel that overlooked the city, thrusting his finger towards it like an over-enthusiastic tour guide. 

“Sure.”

As they walked, Sokka and Zuko admired the towering buildings and massive hotels. Some of it was gaudy and even bordering on trashy, but that was Vegas. 

“I’m _so_ glad I’m not a gambling addict, or else I’d never leave this place,” Sokka laughed as they slipped into the line for the 550-foot tall High Roller.

“I’ve only ever seen this place in movies. It kind of doesn’t feel real, honestly. I never thought I’d actually be here,” Zuko turned to look at Sokka, cheeks dimpled with the biggest smile he’d seen on his face yet. 

“Thanks, Sokka.”

Sokka looked at him, head cocked. “Huh? Did you say something? Sorry, it’s kinda loud.”

Zuko shook his head. “No.”

As they waited in line, Zuko decided he would text Iroh before he forgot. Iroh made sure that texting his nephew was part of his everyday routine, but he still appreciated receiving texts first. 

‘Hey uncle. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you. Like I said, Mai and I are sightseeing and we’re in Vegas right now.’ He chewed his lower lip as his finger hovered over the ‘send’ button, guilt piercing his body like a thousand needles. 

What choice did he have? Zuko squeezed his eyes shut and pressed ‘send’, tucking his phone into his pocket as he awaited Iroh’s response. 

He promised to himself that he’d tell Iroh everything as soon as he arrived at the tea shop, and that telling the truth now would only create more problems. 

Besides, he was having fun for the first time in ages. 

“Zuko, c’mon! It’s our turn!” Sokka said as he motioned for Zuko to follow him. 

Inside, Sokka ran to the massive, full-view window that looked out over the sprawling metropolis below, Zuko in tow. “Whoa...awesome!” He squealed, watching as the buildings below shrunk and the sky expanded. 

Zuko did the same, enjoying the calm, smooth ride and the beautiful view from high above the city. As they inched closer to the top, the mountains surrounding them came into full view. 

A soft, content sigh left his lips. “The view of the mountains is amazing here. It reminds me of home. Of course, Salluit’s mountains are usually covered with snow, but...I’ve always loved the way mountains look against the sky.”

“It is pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Zuko nodded in agreement. “Kinda makes you realize how small you are…”

Sokka looked at him and gave an earnest smile. “You can see the mini Eiffel Tower,” he pointed at it as the two of them began their descent. 

“Yeah, and that fountain. I’d love to see what it looks like at night,” Zuko said. He’d stayed in plenty of fancy hotels in his life, but never one with such an extravagant water feature, let alone one that flowed in time with well-choreographed music. 

Sokka looked down at his phone. “We still have a while until sunset. There’s an aquarium near the Vegas sign, and up the road from here is a haunted museum.”

“We should go to the aquarium. I don’t believe in the paranormal,” Zuko said. That was kind of a lie, since he’d been skeptical about the paranormal for most of his life, but not skeptical enough that he wouldn’t believe it if he saw it for himself. 

“Alright mister edgy. Let’s go to the aquarium then. But I still wanna see the haunted museum, even if it’s just white people bullshit.”

“Okay,” Zuko shrugged. “We should probably find a place to eat after.”

Sokka laughed sheepishly as the ride came to an end and the two of them made their way back outside. “I don’t wanna spend too much money, since we still have a long way to go until we get to New York.”

“Money’s not a problem. Like I said, I can pay. I saved up enough for several months worth of rent,” he admitted. “I was prepared to be homeless after my dad kicked me out.”

“Wait...your dad kicked you out?” Sokka looked up from the GPS map on his phone screen as they started on their walk towards the aquarium. 

“Yeah. He found out I’d started T and disowned me. He told me that he’d kill me if I showed back up to his house again,” he explained.

“That’s awful! Your dad sounds like a real piece of shit,” Sokka huffed. 

“Yeah. He is. I can count my living relatives on one hand, and the only one I can trust is my uncle Iroh.”

Azulon, Zuko’s grandfather, had died under mysterious circumstances several years back. He had a sneaking suspicion that Ozai had somehow killed him, but the coroner still ruled his death as having been of ‘natural causes’.

He knew that was a lie, and he knew that his father had his fingers in many a pie throughout various levels of the local government, as his political power allowed it to be so. 

He knew Ozai could afford to make any death in the community look like an accident, and he knew that included any member of his family. 

Besides, most people knew better than to speak out against him. 

“Wait, so...are you leaving CSU?” 

Zuko looked at him for several seconds before pulling his gaze away. “I am. He paid for last semester, but after finding out I’m trans he told me I’m on my own for this coming semester, and...I just can’t afford it.”

“Oh.” Disappointment leaked from Sokka’s voice. 

Zuko tried to find the words to comfort him, but came up empty. As he wandered the vast, empty desert of his mind looking for the right thing to say in such a painful moment, his thoughts slipped through his fingers like the sand beneath his feet. 

“Ah, good timing. There’s the aquarium!” Sokka pointed at a building across the street from them. 

They crossed the street and entered the aquarium. Zuko noticed the shift in Sokka’s energy almost instantaneously. 

“Zuko, there’s sharks! C’mon!” Sokka grabbed Zuko’s arm and pulled him inside the hallway. Curved glass surrounded them on either side and above their heads. The blue water above bathed the entire area in cerulean, and sharks of all sizes passed by them behind the glass. Sokka pressed his hands against it like an eager child. 

“Look at that!” He said, smiling over at Zuko as he pointed out the different sea creatures. 

It was amazing, and Zuko had never seen so many sharks and rays and fish so close before.

“Have you ever seen a shark from the bottom?”

“Hm?”

“Look up,” Sokka said, and Zuko did. Sure enough, a large shark swam past just as he looked up, filling him with both excitement and fear. 

After they finished in the hallway, they went through the rest of the small aquarium, enjoying the sights of various other smaller fish and sea creatures. The duo even got to pet some stingrays, and an activity that Zuko would’ve found laughably childish in the past had now become enjoyable. 

Fun, even. 

Before they left for the haunted museum, Sokka and Zuko returned to the entrance to take a few pictures of the reptiles, despite having come for the sea creatures.

“That was fun. Weren’t those stingrays cool?” Sokka asked as they made their way up to East Charleston Boulevard for the haunted museum. 

Zuko nodded. “They were...kind of slimy. I didn’t expect that.”

Sokka laughed, and Zuko couldn’t help but smile. In fact, the muscles in his cheeks ached from smiling so much.

“The skin feels kinda like the skin of a whale. We hunt and eat them all the time.”

“Really?”

Sokka nodded. “You should try some if you ever come to Salluit.”

“I’ll be sure to swing by if I ever come to Canada,” Zuko said. 

Sokka gave a knowing smile. “You’re welcome any time.”

As they walked, Zuko noticed things about the city he hadn’t before. Small things, but they added to the strange urban charm. 

“I could just sit here and people-watch all day. There’s so many weird and interesting kinds of people who hang out in cities, especially ones like Vegas,” Sokka said. 

“That’s not really my thing, but…you’re right. I feel like I’ve seen enough weird people to last a lifetime,” Zuko laughed, “and we haven’t even been here a whole day yet.”

“Speaking of which, we should find a place to eat after the haunted museum. I’m starving!”

Zuko pulled out his phone. “I’ll find a place. What kind of food do you want?”

Sokka shrugged. “Meh. Whatever. At this point I’ll be happy to eat anything.”

“Okay.”

As they navigated the busy streets of Vegas, Zuko alternated between searching for a good-tasting and not-too-pricey place for he and Sokka to eat and looking for a hotel that wouldn’t burn a hole in his pocket.

By the time they arrived, he’d settled on a cheap but delicious-looking American place downtown and an inexpensive chain hotel near the airport. 

“We’re here!” Sokka announced as they arrived in front of the haunted museum. 

“Oh...great,” Zuko muttered as he slid his phone into his pocket. 

Sokka’s smile dropped as his eyebrows furrowed and his arms folded across his chest. “Come on, at least _pretend_ to be excited.”

Zuko raised his arms into the air and gave an unenthusiastic, fake cheer. “Woo.”

“Thank you. Now, let’s go.”

Inside the museum was dark, and the flashing lights got old about as soon as they started. Sokka stared wide-eyed at all the supposedly cursed items and paid close attention to everything the tour guide said, holding his breath during the suspenseful bits. 

Sokka smiled over at Zuko, elbowing him in the arm. “Isn’t this place creepy?” He whispered. 

“I have a headache,” Zuko mumbled. 

“Oh no! It’s probably all the terrible, dark, eeeeevil energy leaking into your brain!” He laughed.

“It’s probably the autism.”

Sokka’s mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape. “You’re autistic?”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a dismissive wave. “Let me guess. ‘But you don’t look autistic!’ I’ve heard it a thousand times.”

“What?! No!” 

Someone in front of them shushed Sokka, and he laughed sheepishly and apologized before returning his attention to Zuko. 

“I’d never say that!” He whispered angrily. 

“You were thinking it. It’s fine,” Zuko sighed. 

“No, I—what does ‘looking autistic’ even mean?!” Sokka asked. 

Zuko responded with a weak shrug. “Hell if I know.”

“Okay, well, if you’re having a bad time, we can leave,” Sokka offered. His tone was surprisingly sincere, and it almost caught Zuko off guard. 

“No, it’s okay. Let’s just finish up and go eat.”

“Right.”

Zuko did his best to try and enjoy the rest of the museum trip, but his sensory overload more or less spoiled the experience.

After the tour of the museum ended, Sokka took a few last photos and sent them to his dad before he and Zuko made their way towards downtown, where they ate an early dinner of delicious cheeseburgers and perfectly-salted fries. 

“Y’know,” Sokka said through a half-eaten mouthful of fries, “I’m gonna miss burgers and fries.”

Zuko took a sip of his soda. “There’s plenty in New York.”

“Yeah, but not in Salluit. If I want to get a burger, I have to go all the way to the city,” he sighed. “That means you’re gonna have to eat extra burgers, for me.”

Zuko nodded. “Okay.”

“Anyways...wanna go to a gay bar? There’s a good place called Freezone up the road. It’s down the street from the High Roller, actually. It’s happy hour now,” he smirked. “Also, the gay area is literally called the Fruit Loop.”

“Sure, but like I said, I’m not big on partying or clubbing or any of that sort of things, and I won’t do any kind of drugs,” Zuko said. “Call me a loser if you want, I really don’t care.”

Sokka shook his head. “Nah, that’s respectable. I don’t do drugs either. I just wanna have a little fun before we get back on the road tomorrow,” he said. 

“Right…”

“We’re gonna be passing through Utah, which is really white and full of Mormons, so I don’t wanna be there for any longer than we absolutely have to. There’s a nice place with a good view where we can take a quick break, but that’s about it,” Sokka sighed. 

“Eugh. Yeah, no thanks…” Zuko gritted his teeth. 

Sokka finished off his fries and took a long sip of his coke before continuing. “The next big stretch of our trip is going to be through the midwest, and once we leave here, we’ll be shifting into Mountain Time as well.”

“I can’t wait to lose sleep,” Zuko muttered. 

“Let’s let our minds run wild with something else for tonight,” Sokka smirked and made finger guns. “Like hot guys.”

“Alright,” Zuko agreed. 

“Yes! Fuckin’ sweet!”

The duo left the restaurant and made their way down the strip once again. 

“So, should I act extra fruity or something?” Zuko asked as they approached the nightclub. 

Sokka snorted. “Nah. Just be yourself. Besides,” he smiled and placed a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, “guys find it more attractive when you’re your true self.”

Zuko nodded.

“Sorry, I’m gonna need to see some IDs. You look young,” the bouncer said as she folded her arms across her chest. 

“Right,” Zuko sighed and produced his wallet, and Sokka did the same. They handed their IDs to the tall, muscular, tattooed woman with purple hair. 

“Alright, have you two been drinking or doing any kind of drugs?” The bouncer asked as she lit a cigarette. 

“No.”

“Nope, we’re both sober.”

She scrutinized them for several seconds before nodding. “Alright, go ahead. Enjoy your time!” 

“Thanks!” Sokka chirped, echoed by Zuko. They entered into the darkened building, music streaming through the speakers. To their right was a bar as well as a small hangout area, where a few people sat chatting and drinking. To their left was a dance floor and stage with a stripper pole. 

“Dude, look. I wonder if I could work that. I have pretty strong core strength from kayaking with my dad a whole bunch,” he elbowed Zuko and gestured to the pole. 

“I...don’t know. I’d say just leave it to the strippers here.”

“C’mon, you’re so uptight. Anyways, let’s get some drinks!” Sokka said as he parked himself in one of the bar seats. Zuko sat beside him, a stranger to his left sipping a red drink from a plastic cup and scrolling through Twitter on his phone. 

“What can I get for you two?” The bartender asked, their tone bordering on flirty. 

“Something fruity, not too alcoholic. I’m just trying to have a good time,” Sokka smirked as he leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. 

“Uh, I’ll...have what he’s having! Thanks,” Zuko stammered out, thankful that the darkness enveloping the room hid the blush spreading through his cheeks. 

“I’ll get right on it, then,” the bartender said. 

Sokka turned to Zuko and smiled. “Sooo, see any guys you think are hot?”

Zuko craned his neck to look over Sokka’s shoulder at the lounge area. “Not really. I don’t even know what my ideal guy would be like, to be honest.”

“Hmm…” Sokka leaned back in his chair. “Well, I like multiple genders, so I guess I have more options. Still, when it comes to guys, I don’t think I’d date a white guy. They’re...fine, I guess, but...I don’t know.”

“No, I get it. Being Inuit is an important part of who you are, and a white guy might not understand that.”

Sokka nodded, the colorful lights that surrounded them sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah. Also, I don’t think I could date a cis guy either, so that narrows it down a lot. It’s the same thing as not dating a white guy, yannow? He wouldn’t understand what being trans is like.”

“I wouldn’t date a cis guy either,” Zuko said. 

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

Zuko blushed. “I…haven’t. The only person I’ve ever dated is my roommate, Mai, the girl I mentioned a little while ago. We dated on and off in high school before we both realized we’re gay and broke things off. We’re still friends, of course, but...that was my only relationship. I guess even being Ozai’s son didn’t improve my chances.”

Sokka almost spit out his drink, coughing and spluttering as he stared at Zuko in disbelief. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on, rewind! Your dad is _Ozai_?”

“Yeah. That was...kind of what everyone knew me for, especially since our family drama always seemed to be front and center for the public to consume,” bitterness dripped from his voice as he finished off his drink. 

“Ozai...like...the oil company CEO guy?”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose as he placed the empty cup down on the counter. “He’s also a member of congress, but yes, that Ozai. I’m not proud that he’s my father, nor am I proud of what he did,” he sighed, “I used to champion the things my father had done, but when I thought I was bisexual and came out a while back, he got so mad that he threw hot oil on me, which is how I got my scar. After that, of course, our relationship became much more strained. For the longest time, all I wanted was my father’s love and approval again. I was so desperate to please him that I ignored all the terrible things he did, even to me. Given our bad relationship, I hung around with my uncle a lot. When Ozai kicked my uncle out of the house, I finally realized what a horrible person he was.”

“I think calling him ‘terrible’ is an understatement. I mean, he…” Sokka trailed off. 

“Permanently disfigured me? Yeah. He abused my sister and I for years, and I pretended it didn’t happen. I was so blinded by what I thought was admiration, but just turned out to be needing love…”

In that moment, Sokka realized just how helpless he was. There was nothing he could do to comfort Zuko or rectify the situation. “At least you’re going to stay with your uncle, right?” The words left his mouth without so much as a second thought. 

Zuko nodded. “Yeah. I’m lucky to have the ability to start a new life, but I know that people will never be able to separate me from my dad. They’ll always see me or hear my name and see Ozai and all the horrible things he did. In a way…” he stopped and stared past Sokka, at something invisible to all eyes but his own, “I’ll never escape from him. I’ll always be associated with him just by being his son.”

Again, Sokka wasn’t sure what to say. He rubbed at the back of his neck, “hey, at least you realized. Besides, if you spend the rest of your life renouncing what he did and taking a stand against him, people might change how they think about you.”

“I don’t know. My dad is dangerous. He could have me killed in a heartbeat if he really wanted to, and he could make it look like an accident. You’d better believe he’d pay off the cops to rule it as an accident or a suicide.”

“Could he do that to anyone who opposes him?” Sokka questioned.

“He could, but he knows me. He doesn’t care about a bunch of random people he’ll never meet. Even if he knows their names and where they live, he’d be stupid to have them killed. Arrested, maybe, but not killed. Me, though? Like I said, he could make it look like an accident, and nobody would ever find out.”

Sokka shuddered at the terrifying thought. The idea that anyone could have enough money and power to dispose of a close family member without arousing any suspicion twisted his stomach in knots. The idea that Ozai could kill someone and face no legal action, let alone disposing of his own son in such a brutal manner with no hope of justice ever being served, sent a sharp, painful chill like an electric spark shooting down his spine. It stole the words from his throat and left him speechless in shock and fear. 

“That’s not to say I don’t criticize him, but...things are hard for me right now, and I’d prefer to not die. Besides, countless other people already have Ozai on their shit list, and I’ve made my opinion on him clear. As much as I believe protests work, the amount of power my dad has is unbelievable.” Zuko’s tone had become solemn, as if he knew it was only a matter of time before Ozai got rid of him like he had with Azulon. 

“Jesus Christ. I knew he was a bad guy, but…damn, you really meant it,” Sokka said. 

“Yeah.”

He understood it now, Zuko’s eagerness to get to New York. 

“Do you...want another drink, or should we go?” Sokka asked carefully. 

“We should go. I don’t want to go down the road of drinking when I’m upset.”

Zuko paid for the drinks, and the two of them left, squinting as they exited into the bright orange light of sunset. 

“What do you wanna do now?” Zuko asked. 

“Let’s head to that hotel you mentioned earlier. We can stop at the huge fountain we saw on our way in. It looks _way_ cooler at night, trust me,” Sokka told him. 

“Okay.”

They made their way back down the strip in silence. Sokka chewed his lip and tried not to think about how it was _all his fault_ for making Zuko talk about his past trauma, and thus having ruined the mood. All he could do was hope tomorrow would be better.

As they approached the fountain, Sokka couldn’t help but notice the small crowd of people who stood in front of the fountain, snapping pictures and watching the aquatic light show with sparkling eyes. “Looks like it’s already started,” he said.

Music flowed from unseen speakers somewhere out onto the street, and the jets of water danced in time with the rhythm, illuminated by golden lights encircling the inner perimeter of the fountain. 

It was beautiful, even if their view was obscured by a drove of people recording the event with their phones. Across the strip, cars whizzed passed, and the warm early summer breeze tousled their hair. 

“It’s so hot here. I thought Long Beach was bad,” Sokka laughed. 

“I guess you’re used to cold weather, right?” Zuko said

Sokka shrugged, his body shrouded in darkness save for the thin line of white light cast by the fountain. “Eh, sorta. I live here during the school year, and go back to Salluit in the summer.”

“Is it warm in the summer?” He asked. 

“Not really. It usually doesn’t get above 60° or so, even in the warmest months,” Sokka replied. 

Zuko stared at him in disbelief, and shuddered at the thought of how bitterly cold the place must be during the winter. “That sounds...terrible.”

Sokka laughed. “It’s not bad once you get used to it.”

He couldn’t see himself ever getting used to something so cold, even if he lived there for the rest of his life, but he was quick to remind himself that New York was much milder than California. Maybe one day he could even entertain the fantasy of travelling to Salluit to visit Sokka, even if it took twenty years. 

Despite the swath of night that enveloped Sokka’s form and the low din of the crowd, Zuko still heard him stifle a yawn. “Ugh...feels like we’ve been running around all day. I’m exhausted,” Sokka muttered. 

“Should we head to the hotel?”

Sokka nodded and stretched. “Yeah. If we wanna get through Utah without too many stops, we should get on the road at a reasonable time.” Exhaustion weighed heavy on his voice, turning it hoarse and weak. 

Zuko turned on his heel and made his way back down the strip, glancing over his shoulder every so often to make sure Sokka was still following him. “Do you have extra clothes in your bag?”

Sokka gave a thumbs up and a weak grin. “Yeah, I made sure to stuff some in there. I’m always prepared,” he murmured as he rubbed at his half-lidded, tired eyes. 

It was a little past 10 PM when the two arrived at the hotel. Zuko paid for the room and made sure to ask for one with two beds. The clerk placed two card keys on the table and informed him of the 10 AM checkout time. Zuko thanked the man and took the elevator up to the fifth floor with Sokka, who almost fell asleep more than once on the way up. 

Zuko still held his breath as he opened the door, turning on the light and breathing a sigh of relief as he noticed that there was, in fact, two beds. 

“Ah, finally,” Sokka breathed as he pushed past Zuko and flopped down onto one of the beds. 

“I’m gonna change,” Zuko muttered as he went into the bathroom. He slid out of his sweaty binder and coughed a few times to clear his chest. A dull ache radiated through his ribcage after a day of overbinding. He knew it was bad, sure, but the dysphoria caused by not binding at all was a thousand times worse. 

After he finished changing, he brushed his teeth and exited the bathroom to Sokka sitting on his bed texting. 

“You can change, if you want,” Zuko said as he climbed into bed. 

“Thanks!” Sokka chirped as he entered the bathroom and stripped out of his clothes, changing into a pair of old running shorts and an oversized T-shirt. His phone vibrated as he finished brushing his teeth, and an image preview popped up on his lock screen. 

Katara’s round face smiled back at him, her dark hair pulled into a quick, messy ponytail and hand-beaded blue earrings dangling from her ears. Beside her, hand on her waist, was Katara’s girlfriend, Yue. Her blue eyeshadow contrasted against her brown skin, as did her earrings that matched Katara’s. The two of them stood proudly in front of a delicious-looking tray of cookies. 

Sokka couldn’t help but smile at how cute they were. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Zuko, who’d turned as to be facing away from Sokka. 

“Zuko, dude, you awake? You wanna see a picture of my sister and her girlfriend?”

Zuko groaned and rubbed his eyes. “No, I want to go to bed. If you’re smart, you’ll do the same.”

Sokka huffed and placed his phone on the desk beside his bed. “Alright _mom_.”

“Weren’t you the one who suggested we get up early tomorrow so we can be on the road at a decent time? I’m pretty sure I remember you saying that,” Zuko muttered.

Sokka clicked his tongue. “No need to act like a dick about it, jeez. I’m going to sleep, just like you said you wanted!”

“Alright.”

For some god forsaken reason, Sokka couldn’t keep himself from saying goodnight. 

Zuko groaned and pressed his face into the pillow. “ _Aiya_...goodnight. Now _please_ shut up and let me sleep.”

  


* * *

  


Zuko awoke before Sokka, who, still asleep, had tossed all the blankets off himself and onto the floor and was now lying with his right leg hanging over the side of the bed, snoring loudly. After he got dressed, his binder sending a sharp, painful jolt of regret through his chest, he stole a quick picture of Sokka.

“Sokka, get up. Come on,” Zuko sighed as he shook him. A strange, twisting snake of pride and jealousy chewed at him as he noticed Sokka’s top surgery scars. He reminded himself that he was almost there, that once he got to New York and worked at the Jasmine Dragon for a little while, he’d be able to afford it. Maybe not being misgendered and deadnamed 24/7 would make him feel better. 

Sokka groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “C’mon...five more minutes.”

“No, get up now. It’s almost 7, and it takes over 7 hours to get to the Utah-Wyoming border.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sokka’s voice was muffled as he pressed his face into the pillow. “I’m pretty sure I’d die if I had to talk to a Mormon.”

A smile pulled at the corners of Zuko’s lips. “I can agree with you on that, which is why we should get moving.”

Sokka sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Hopefully we’ll make some good progress today, since there’s not really anywhere in Utah worth stopping. Not sure how far it is from here to Denver, but...we’ll probably be driving all day.”

“I’m fine with that,” Zuko said as he grabbed his bag, “the further we are from California, the better.”

Sokka slid off the bed and grabbed his bag before disappearing into the bathroom.

As he waited for Sokka to get dressed, Zuko’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

Excitement flooded his veins, followed a few moments later by a burst of shame. He knew it was either Iroh or Mai, since nobody else ever bothered to call or text. He’d changed his number after Ozai had disowned him, and preemptively blocked both him and Azula with the knowledge that they’d both be eager to contact him and invite him back, in the hopes that he’d be stupid enough to just give in and do it.

Sure enough, the caller ID read ‘uncle’, and he picked up the call with a warm hello.

“Zuko! How are you?”

“I’m doing well, thank you uncle.”

“Where are you right now?” Iroh asked.

Zuko paused, “I’m in Vegas, actually.”

“Vegas? You’d better not be gambling.”

He forced a laugh, “don’t worry. I know better than to waste money on that sort of thing.”

“What are you doing in Vegas?”

“Uh...Mai wanted to explore,” Zuko blurted, stringing tiny lies along as he went and reminding himself that this was for the best. 

A moment of static silence passed as the blood in his veins turned to ice. Was Iroh onto him? Could he tell that he was lying?

“That’s very kind of you to stop.”

“Yeah…we’ve kind of been stopping a lot, but I think we’re going to cover a lot of ground today. Mai’s eager to take pictures of everything for her girlfriend. Besides, it’s nice to spend some time in the warmer weather.”

The bathroom door opened, and Zuko held his breath. 

“You ready, Zuko?” Sokka asked loudly, to which Zuko glared daggers into him in response.

“Excuse me, uncle.”

“Wait, who’s—”

He placed his hand over the speaker and motioned for Sokka to be quiet.

“Sorry, geez. How was I supposed to know you were on the phone?” Sokka mumbled as he flopped down onto the bed.

Zuko cleared his throat and resumed the call. “Sorry…”

“Who was that?”

“Oh, uh...Mai and I met up with one of her friends who just so happened to be here at the same time as us, and we’re at a hotel together...but...we’re about to leave, so I’m going to hang up now. Sorry, but we really wanna at least get to the Wyoming border today.”

Silence, again. Cold, anxious sweat collected on the back of Zuko’s neck, and he waited for Iroh’s response.

“That’s okay, Zuko. Stay safe, and have fun with your friends. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay...bye.”

“Bye.”

Zuko hung up and slid his phone into his pocket. Sokka got off the bed and looked at him, arms folded across his chest. “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”

“You did.”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Dude, it was just your uncle. I talk to my dad all the time. No need to be embarrassed about it.”

Heat bloomed in Zuko’s cheeks and leaked into his ears. “I’m not embarrassed!”

“Why are you so upset, then?”

Zuko let out an exasperated sigh as he got off the bed and made for the door. “I’m not upset. Let’s just go.”

Sokka squinted at him but remained silent. The duo left the room and checked out before returning to the parking garage where Sokka had left his car. Zuko got into the passenger seat and placed his bag at his feet, and Sokka slid the key into the ignition and pulled out of the dingy gray parking garage and onto the bustling Las Vegas street. Unfamiliar pop music played quietly over the radio as they drove down the street, the robotic female voice of Sokka’s phone GPS punctuating the silence every now and again.

Zuko cleared his throat and turned to look out the window. “You know, I...kind of lied back there. At the hotel.”

Silence was Sokka’s only reply, but he continued nonetheless.

“Remember what I told you a few days ago? I lied to my uncle about travelling with Mai, and…I guess I just felt guilty for lying and took it out on you.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I...kinda forgot. My voice doesn’t sound feminine anymore, so he probably heard me, huh?”

Zuko pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the window. “Yeah, but I told him some BS about how we met up with one of Mai’s friends.”

“Why don’t you just be honest if lying makes you feel so bad?”

Zuko’s hands clenched into fists. “I can’t be honest. If he knew I was hitchhiking across the country with a complete stranger, he would be so upset. I know it’s just because he cares about me, but he’s already been through so much, and I just want him to be able to retire peacefully without fussing over whether or not I’ll get there safely.”

“Your uncle sounds like a really nice guy,” Sokka said.

Zuko couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. He is. He’s basically my dad; he’s always been there for me when I needed him. He sees me like his own son, which is why I can’t bring myself to tell him that I’m travelling with you. Even if I insist that I’m safe, I know he probably won’t believe me. It comes from a place of love I know, but...I’d rather have him be retroactively mad at me than tell him and have him drive all the way out here to pick me up.”

“What are you gonna do when we get to New York?”

“I’m going to tell him the truth. He’s going to see you, and my gig will be up.”

Sokka shrugged. “He doesn’t have to see me. I can just drop you off.”

“That might make him suspicious, and I’m going to tell him either way. I hate keeping secrets like that,” he said.

“Okay. Also…” he paused as his stomach growled loudly, “I’m gonna find a McDonalds so I can get something to eat. I’m starving. You okay with that?”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me. I’m pretty hungry too.”

Sokka glanced down at his phone’s GPS, then back up at the signs dotted along either side of the road. “Seems like there’s one just down the road.”

“I’m starting to miss the campus food. Eating out gets old after a while,” Zuko admitted as he watched the towering buildings rush by outside the window.

“Yeah, I agree. There’s nothing like a home-cooked meal, though.”

Sadness filled the hole in Zuko’s chest like a vast cavern. He hadn’t eaten a home-cooked meal in ages, not since Ursa had gone missing. Ozai was rich enough to afford personal chefs in her absence, so it didn’t seem to matter to him at all that she was no longer around to cook for the family. Still, the food the chefs made never tasted quite like his mother’s, and it always left Zuko with a lingering feeling of dissatisfaction. “Yeah…”

Sokka gritted his teeth. “Shit, sorry…”

“No, it’s fine. I completely agree. As good as campus and restaurant food is, it’s not the same as something cooked for you by someone who loves you.”

Sokka nodded. “My gran-gran is amazing at cooking. It’s basically impossible to get Inuit cultural foods outside of our traditional homelands, so I miss it a lot.”

Zuko forced a laugh and leaned back against the headrest as they took an exit down the road towards a large shopping center with a McDonalds in it. “You’re making me miss my own cultural food. My mom used to make the best roasted duck. It tasted like taking a bite of heaven itself.”

The both of them ignored the elephant in the room of their absent mothers as they pulled up to the McDonalds drive-thru. 

“What do you want?” Sokka asked. 

Zuko shrugged. “I don’t have any dietary restrictions or anything. I’ll just have whatever you’re having, since I don’t really eat here much.”

“Have you ever been to a 24-hour McDonalds? It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced, especially if you’ve been studying all day. I think enjoying a McMuffin at 2 AM is an essential part of the college experience.”

Zuko shook his head as the car ahead of them pulled up to the window. “Like I said, I don’t really come here much. That, and I don’t have a car.”

Most people didn’t like hanging out with him anyways.

“‘Kay, if you’re sure,” he shrugged as he leaned out the open window and announced his order. A tired voice crackled through the speaker as he pulled up to the first window. 

Sokka paid for the food and they ate as he drove, McMuffin in one hand. 

“Do you want the aux?” He asked Zuko. 

“I don’t know what stations there are out here.”

Sokka smiled and shook his head. “Don’t worry, I do have an actual aux cord.”

Zuko’s eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t this car too old for one?”

Sokka shook his head as he opened the center console and produced a tape with a cord attached. He pushed it into the tape player and gestured to the cord. “You can plug the cord into your phone, and it’ll play through the radio. One of my friends back home showed me this,” he said with a smirk. 

“I’ll be honest, it’s kind of a great idea,” Zuko said as he plugged the cord into his phone. 

“That’s indigenous genius for you,” Sokka puffed out his chest in pride as he finished his sandwich. 

“What should I play?”

“Whatever you want. I’m not super picky, but if you play country I’ll kick you out,” he joked. 

Zuko laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s not really my taste.”

“In that case, go crazy.”

He nodded and shuffled his playlist.

 _Make It Stop_ by _Rise Against_ poured through the radio, and he thought back to the night his father kicked him out. 

“Mai introduced me to this band, actually. I never even knew there was music about the kinds of things I’d been through.”

“It’s good. You like punk?”

Zuko nodded. “As cheesy as it sounds...punk has a special meaning to me, considering how my career politician dad literally built his platform off of stepping on the backs of countless innocent people.”

“Nah, I get it. I was really into punk in middle school.”

“That...doesn’t make me feel any better,” Zuko muttered. 

“Hey! I was just trying to be supportive.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Zuko’s post-coming out punk playlist served as the background music as they passed through the upper corner of Arizona and into Utah. He watched out the window as the city around them melted into desert, the swath of gray, cracked road bisecting the land like a river. 

As painful as it was to admit, there were a few songs on the playlist that he skipped because he didn’t want Sokka knowing he liked them. All he could picture in his mind’s eye was Sokka imagining him dancing alone in his room, strumming an invisible air guitar and humming along, something that happened embarrassingly often. 

Only when he was sure nobody was around to see it, of course. 

His playlist came to an end as the car was meandering over the winding roads in Western Utah. Somehow, they’d drive for a little more than four hours without stopping, and both of them were feeling every second of it. 

Zuko noticed the uncomfortable, exhausted expression drawn across Sokka’s face. “Do you want me to take over driving?” 

Sokka perked up a bit at that and smiled. “That would be awesome.”

“Okay. I...kind of really have to piss, so we should probably stop somewhere.”

Sokka looked at him, expression unreadable. “Not to be rude or anything, but...look around. We’re in the middle of buttfuck nowhere,” he said as he grabbed his phone, “the nearest gas station is an hour away, and we already passed the tourist rest stop a few hours ago.”

Zuko let out a frustrated sigh. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

Sokka shrugged. “I can pull over. It’s not like this road is super busy.”

“I am _not_ taking a piss on the side of the road,” Zuko insisted. 

“Suit yourself,” Sokka said, “but I’m still gonna pull over so we can switch.”

“Okay.”

He flicked on his turn signal and pulled over onto the narrow shoulder. “Okay, just follow the GPS map and you should be fine,” Sokka told him as he slid out of the driver’s seat and stretched, a series of strange noises tumbling from his mouth as he did so. 

Zuko got out of the car and hissed at the sharp pain that shot through the area below his stomach. 

Shit. 

“What’s wrong?” Sokka asked as he peered in through the ajar driver’s side door.

“I _really_ have to take a piss.”

“Then piss on the road. I don’t know what else to tell you, dude. The nearest gas station is over an hour away. Like I said, this road isn’t very busy.”

Zuko groaned. “This is one of those rare times I wish I was cis. Then I could just piss in a bottle or something.”

Sokka shook his head. “And then what? Just carry the piss bottle around in the car?”

“You’re disgusting,” Zuko muttered as he went around to the driver’s side door. He leaned against it and gritted his teeth as he clutched at his stomach. “More importantly, what if someone sees me? I don’t want a random stranger looking at my ass.”

“Just open the door. It’ll conceal your body.”

“That doesn’t solve the problem of someone coming towards us. My ass will be out and they’ll see it.”

Sokka huffed and folded his arms across his chest. “What do you want me to do? Manifest a curtain for you?”

“Just...stand in front of me or something. And don’t look.”

“Oh, like that’s not suspicious.”

“I don’t care if it’s suspicious or not, I care about random strangers not staring at my bare ass.”

Sokka sighed and got out of the car again. “Okay, fine. I’ll stand in front of you like some kind of...piss guardian.”

“If you look, I swear—” Zuko started. 

Sokka pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why on earth would I want to look? Just take care of it and let’s get back on the road.”

“Okay.”

Sokka whistled along to the tune of a folk song his mother always used to sing to him before her disappearance.

A string of curses tumbled from Zuko’s mouth as he groaned. “You aren’t helping. _At all_.”

“Sorry. Still, I’m not the one who decided it was a good idea to take a piss on the side of the road.”

“I never said it was a good idea, dumbass,” Zuko sighed as he returned to his feet and fumbled to re-button his pants. 

“Touché,” Sokka said. 

“Yeah, whatever. Anyways, I’m done, so let’s go.”

“We need to stop for gas,” Sokka slid into the passenger seat.

Zuko gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles whitening. “Okay. We’ll stop when I pass the one you mentioned.” He gritted his teeth at the thought that Sokka may have been playing some kind of fucked up joke on him, but a quick glance at the fuel gauge revealed that he was telling the truth. 

After taking a small detour at the shitty little Chevron just off their route of I-15, they continued through Utah several miles above the speed limit. 

“I’m starting to get tired of looking at rocks,” Zuko said.

“Really? Whaaaat? I could look at rocks all day. I have rock-o-vision.”

“Don’t you have rocks in Salluit?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. But they aren’t the same.”

Zuko gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t get too excited. The entire midwest looks like this, so you’ll have more than enough time to...look at rocks.”

“Sweet. But I’m sorta bored.”

“Listen to music or play some games on your phone or something.”

Sokka gasped and sat bolt upright, eyes sparkling and mouth pulled into a wide grin. “We can play eye spy!”

“What? What the fuck is that?”

Sokka pressed a hand to his chest as though Zuko had just insulted every one of his ancestors. “What? How do you not know about eye spy? It’s not an Inuit thing; pretty much everyone does it during long, boring car rides.”

“Boring car rides? When I was a kid, we flew pretty much everywhere. I guess my dad just liked to flex how much money we had.”

Sokka’s face scrunched up in an expression of disgust. “That’s the most pretentious shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, it is. Also, the car rides we did have...weren’t really boring. I think...they were fun a long time ago, when Azula and I didn’t fight and when our dad didn’t yell at us for getting on his nerves.”

“Sooo…did you not play eye spy?”

“No, but...explain the concept. We may have just called it something else.”

“Okay, so it’s really simple. Basically, one person describes something they see outside without saying what that thing is, and the other person tries to guess.”

“I’ve…never done that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go first. I spy...something brown. And rough. And...vaguely geometric, but not exactly geometric enough to be considered any kind of coherent shape.”

“Let me guess. A rock.”

Sokka raised his arms into the air and cheered. “Woohoo! Yeah! It was a rock!”

“Uh...so...is it my turn, then?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay…”

“It’s...um...rectangular? And attached to some kind of pole…”

Sokka clicked his tongue. “That’s an easy one. It’s the road sign we just passed.”

“Yeah. The road sign and rocks. That’s about all there is out here.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go again.”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Okay! I spy...something black with yellow stripes.”

Zuko sighed. “Is it the road?” He asked, defeated. 

“Damn. You’re really good. Okay, your turn.”

“It’s brown and not a rock.”

Sokka put a finger to his chin as he squinted out the window. “Dirt…?”

“Congrats.”

“Okay. I’m out of things to see. At least it was more fun than playing with my dad back at home.”

Zuko smiled at the thought. “Let me guess. Instead of rocks, it was ice or something.”

“Oh my G-d, yes. My dad would _always_ say ice. Every single fucking time we would go out on his ATV and start playing, he would say ice. Katara _also_ always said ice. At least I got creative and said rocks, snow, mountains…more snow.”

Zuko wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. Some invisible set of hands held it in his chest even as it fluttered there, serving only to make him feel sick. 

“Is Katara your sister?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t imagine not having a fucked up relationship with your sibling,” Zuko blurted. 

Sokka shrugged. “Eh. She’s kind of annoying sometimes, but...she’s my sister, so of course I always love her at the end of the day.”

Hearing that made him regret not bringing Azula along. 

Maybe things could’ve been different. Maybe he could’ve fixed the damage Ozai had done to her, even in the face of how insurmountable his own trauma seemed.

He’d never truly believed she was a lost cause. If anything, thinking about her just made him sad. 

Still, at the end of the day, he would’ve succumbed to his father’s brutal psychological violence had he stayed in California any longer. The crumbling walls of his mind would’ve given in, and that place would’ve suffocated him. Ozai had made it that way on purpose, and he knew it. 

He swore to himself that the last laugh was _his_ to have, and he clung to the tiny, precious moments he and Sokka had made together thus far, bits of solace completely separated from the boiling, agonizing, walking-on-eggshells life he’d had before. 

Ozai would hate it. 

That was enough closure for him, and he held tight to the idea of his father’s disdain destroying him, choking him as he sat in his own anger, imagining the life Zuko was creating for himself, carving out with the knife Ozai had pressed against his throat all those years. 

Maybe one day he’d go back. He’d go back as Zuko, five or ten or fifteen years on T, maybe with a boyfriend or a fiancé or a husband or just by himself, and he’d relish in seeing his father’s face contort in anger as he realized he no longer had any control over the path Zuko chose for himself, and he hadn’t for years. 

“I understand if you don’t feel that way, though,” Sokka’s voice sliced through his thoughts. 

“Huh? What, no, I...I like my sister. Honestly, I just feel sad for her.” He remembered how she’d been admitted to a psychiatric hospital just a short while after his father had disowned him. Of course, he put on his best fake theatrics as he gave a sorrowful media interview about the misfortune that had befallen him in regard to his ‘daughters’. 

“Why?”

“She sort of...went off the deep end a few months ago. I guess my father’s abuse was finally too much, and she just snapped.”

A part of Zuko knew that it was because Azula started questioning what had happened to their mother. In the rare moments of calm in the storm that was their relationship, she’d asked him about what he thought happened. 

That, combined with years of abuse, sent her spiraling, and she had a psychotic break before Ozai had her admitted to the psych ward. 

Zuko had seen her only once before he left. She looked terrible, and most of what she said didn’t make much sense. He remembered her telling him she’d found a letter from their mother, and promised to let him see if he managed to get her out. 

“Geez...that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I want to help her, but...I don’t really know how.”

“Don’t spread yourself too thin, or you’ll just get worn out. I mean, you’re practically restarting your entire life.”

Zuko sighed. “It feels like I have all these problems just...piling up. Life seems to love finding ways to fuck me over...I wonder what my uncle would say if he were here right now…”

Sokka shrugged. “Have you talked about it with him before?”

“Yeah. Honestly, he’d probably say something like ‘you need to have some clouds in order to see a silver lining. You’ll see so many that you’ll miss it when the sky becomes clear.’,” Zuko said. 

“Your uncle sounds like an amazing guy.”

“He is. He’s smart _and_ funny, and it seems like he always knows exactly what to say and just when to say it. Of course, his best virtue is his kindness. He loved me even when I was awful to him, and now he’s giving me a place to stay with him when I have nowhere to go.”

Sokka couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of happiness at the way Zuko’s smile actually reached his eyes when he talked about Iroh. 

“I feel that way about my dad. He taught me hunting, fishing, and so many things about my culture. He even taught Katara and I Inuktitut so our ancestors’ language can live on with us, and he was always there for me when I needed support. I remember on my surgery day, he never once left my side after I left the operating room.”

“That’s...how I feel about Iroh. He’s basically my dad at this point.”

Sokka smiled. “You know, where I’m from, if your family is shitty, they don’t count as your family.”

Zuko sighed and shook his head. “The sentiment is nice, but...I have to own up to the things my father did. Even if it wasn’t my fault, I’m his son. It’s my burden to carry too. Maybe I can help fix some of his mistakes. Besides, Azula needs help too.”

“I get that, but...it sounds awful.”

Zuko shrugged. “It’s just my life at this point. I guess I’ve accepted it.”

As they drove, Zuko’s playlist soon came to an end, and Sokka eagerly took the chance to play his lo-fi study music, which he swore made the drive smoother and more pleasurable. 

They made a stop in Provo to eat, but neither of them wanted to stay long in the depressingly white city, where blue and green eyes like algae on pond water shot strange glances at Sokka and his whalebone necklace and the traditional tattoos on his arms.

The brisk walk back to the car was tense. 

“I just wanted to eat my burrito in peace, but I felt like I was about to be attacked back there,” Sokka muttered as he glanced at Zuko. 

“Yeah...sorry everyone was leering at you like that.”

“Guess they’ve never seen someone like me. Not really many Inuit down here,” Sokka joked, but Zuko could tell he was tense. 

“It makes sense. Who’d wanna live somewhere so…”

“Colonized. And judgy, jeez. What’s with some people?” Sokka huffed as he flopped into the passenger seat. 

“I don’t know. Let’s just leave before something bad happens,” Zuko slid the key into the ignition, and the old car’s engine spluttered to life.

“Good idea.” 

The outskirts of Salt Lake City pierced the horizon as they made for the Wyoming border, the Uinta-Wasatch-Cache National Forest to their right. The sun slid down the horizon as they passed into Wyoming, surrounded by more desert interspersed with forest. 

“I miss home,” Sokka said as he pressed his forehead to the window. “All this desert is making me miss the snow.”

“I’ve never seen snow, except on the mountains.”

Sokka sat up, eyes wide. “Wait, like...never outside on the ground?”

Zuko shook his head. “Like I said, I’ve spent my entire life in Southern California.”

“You’re missing out. Nothing beats looking outside to a fresh coat of snow. It’s like...the entire world just stops for a second. It’s strangely humbling. Makes you realize just how small you are, and just how powerful everything around you is.”

Zuko’s breath caught in his throat. “Sounds beautiful.”

“It is. You should come someday.”

Sokka’s old car rumbles along I-80, at times almost hugging the southern border of Wyoming. 

“Where? Nunavik?”

Sokka nodded. “Salluit.”

Zuko sighed. Beside them, the edges of one of the state’s few rivers reached out into the land like a clawed hand. 

“I don’t know.”

“What’s stopping you? If you feel like you’re invading, you aren’t. Believe me, you’re welcomed.” Sokka’s lips pressed into a frown. 

“I guess I just need time to think. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry. Just...think about it. Money’s no issue, by the way.”

Over thirteen hours on the road had passed by the time they arrived in Cheyenne. They crashed in a cheap hotel for the night, satisfied with how far they’d gotten. 

“What do you wanna do tomorrow?” Sokka asked as he spread himself out across the bed. 

“Is there anything you want to do here, before we leave?” Zuko rubbed at his eyes, heavy with exhaustion. 

“Nah. There’s not really anything I wanna do until we get to Illinois. You?”

Zuko shrugged. “Illinois is fine.”

“Alright. I’ll drive tomorrow, that way it’ll balance it out and make it fair,” Sokka’s words were slurred with the heavy tiredness that had settled in his mind like fog. 

“G’night, Zuko.”

“Goodnight, Sokka.”

  


* * *

  


Like clockwork, they awoke early and packed their things, having left the hotel by 7:45. 8 AM had just rolled around before Sokka started to insist on getting another McMuffin for breakfast. Zuko didn’t protest, but the idea of eating nothing but McMuffins for breakfast for the next several days was anything but appealing. 

He was just happy to be leaving Cheyenne, and he breathed a sigh of relief as they passed into Nebraska, where the desert gave way to vast stretches of prairie. Staring outside had gone from semi-pleasurable to boring in a matter of minutes. 

“The sights out here are abysmal. It almost makes me miss the hundreds of miles of desert we just crossed.”

“We could go hiking or something,” Sokka suggested. “The weather’s nice, and there’s plenty of trails.”

“No, let’s just keep going. The sooner we get into Iowa, the better.”

“Iowa’s nothing special,” Sokka replied. 

“It isn’t, but if we stop in Iowa city, we can drive to Chicago tomorrow. 

Sokka groaned. “That’s almost 9 hours away.”

“I know. The time zone shifts don’t help anything, either.”

Sokka raised one of his hands, the other clutching the steering wheel with pale knuckles. “Who the hell invented time zones? Like, what purpose is there for half of Nebraska to be an hour behind? They’re fucking stupid. We should all just be on the same time zone.”

“That...isn’t how it works.”

Sokka gave a dismissive wave. “I know, I know. The sun and all that stuff, but still. You have to admit they are a little stupid.”

Zuko nodded. “They are.”

“Thankfully, Salluit and New York are in the same time zone. Once we move into EST, that’ll be the last time zone change. I’m ready to un-fuck my sleeping schedule,” he laughed. 

“Me too. I can’t wait to actually sleep in a real bed again.”

“ _I_ can’t wait to eat food that I actually know the origins of.” Sokka couldn’t help but salivate at the thought of the plentiful meat he got to indulge in as part of his culture’s cuisine. 

“You should try my uncle’s cooking. It’s amazing, even if you don’t like Japanese.”

“I like Japanese, but I’d eat his food even if it was disgusting, because hurting his feelings would make me a horrible person,” he laughed in response. After all the praises Zuko had sung of Iroh, he’d feel awful if he didn’t eat it. 

As they drove past the bustling, geometric cityscape of Des Moines, the thick layer of clouds in the sky above changed from white to gray. Thunder rumbled as the storm clouds pregnant with rain released their burden, slowly at first, then all at once. 

“Aw, really?” Sokka sighed.

“Want me to drive?” Zuko asked. 

“No, it’s okay. I just hate the rain, and we still have a while to go before we reach Davenport.”

“Davenport? I thought we were going to Iowa city?”

“We’re gonna head to Davenport instead, since it’s closer to Chicago. We’ll have more time there if we cover the extra ground tonight.”

“Okay,” Zuko shrugged. “You’re the one driving, after all.”

The thick of the storm ended after about three hours of driving, but the rain clouds lingered in the sky, sprinkling down onto the earth below until around sunset.

“I’m famished,” Sokka groaned. 

“Yeah. We should eat something once we get to Davenport. I’ll look for a good restaurant.”

Sokka nodded and glanced at Zuko out of the corner of his eye. Outside his window, the gray clouds that had previously been crowding the sky had parted, revealing the golden sun that hung in front of them and bathed the surroundings in soft, warm orange light. The few thin, wispy clouds that clung to the horizon were cast in shades of purple, orange, red, and pink, and lined with gold.

But the view outside was nothing compared to the one beside him. All the colors of the sunset danced across the black canvas of Zuko’s soft, shaggy hair, his tan skin awash with golden sunlight that highlighted the arch of his brow, the curve of his cheeks, and the slope of his nose. Even the skin around his scar was beautiful.

Zuko looked up at him, and Sokka saw the sun’s fire dancing in those eyes, ones that his smile finally seemed to reach after having been dark for so long.

“Uh, Sokka? You should probably focus on driving. I have us covered,” Zuko said, a cloying smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Right, sorry,” Sokka stammered as he refocused his attention on the road. 

Sokka’s handsome features weren’t lost on Zuko either, but he’d spent so long in the loveless world his father had created that he’d dedicated his entire life to surviving. Out of everything about Sokka that appealed to him, his personality stood out the most. He was kind and funny and smart, and even if he never would’ve said it aloud, he cherished the moments they spent together. Being around him was...fun. 

For the first time in ages, being around someone was fun. He enjoyed Sokka’s company unrestrained, and the thought filled him with a strange, tingling sense of pleasant warmth. His heart pounded against his chest like a caged bird, and his pulse picked up speed along with it. 

In all the years he’d been alive, he’d never had a crush on anyone. Of course, he figured it would be possible in theory, so he settled on labelling himself as grayromantic.

Was this love…?

“I found a good place. To eat, I mean,” Zuko told him. 

“Alright. We’ll eat a late dinner, I guess. Hope that’s okay with you.”

“I don’t mind.”

_As long as I get to eat with you._

He didn’t know if it was Sokka’s presence that enriched the taste of the food, or if he was finally learning to live again after breaking free of his father’s iron grip. 

Either way, it didn’t matter.

  


* * *

  


It was almost 9 PM when they arrived in Davenport, exhausted and hungry. They ate a late dinner at an Italian restaurant and went to their hotel for the night. 

Zuko awoke in the middle of the night again, throat hoarse from screaming and face hot with tears of shame. 

Sokka didn’t seem annoyed, just...sad. 

“Nightmares again?” He said, exhaustion dripping from his voice. 

“Sorry,” was all Zuko could bring himself to say. He’d been doing so well the past few days, and like a fool, he’d stumbled into the foolish belief that maybe, just maybe, the nightmares were gone for good. 

That was too much to hope for, apparently.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay,” Sokka reassured. “Just try and get back to sleep, if you can.”

Zuko’s only response was the rustling of blankets as he shifted about in the unfamiliar hotel bed in an attempt to get comfortable. 

As humiliating as it was to admit it, he missed his mother. Zuko thought back to his childhood, during the nights he had trouble sleeping or awoke from a nightmare. His mother always seemed to be there to comfort him, never angry or upset; always with open arms and lullabies that had been passed down to her from her mother, and her mother before that. 

No.

He was an adult now; he had been for some time. Besides, his mother was gone, and she wasn’t coming back. He’d spent the last several years telling himself that there was a very real possibility he’d never see her again, even in a coffin.

Somehow, he managed to fall asleep, but he awoke the next morning exhausted. By the time he dragged himself out of bed, Sokka was already ready and eager to leave. 

Zuko got ready as fast as he could, and they left the hotel to get on the road for Chicago. 

“McMuffins again?” He mumbled as he slid down into the passenger seat. 

Sokka laughed. “We can go somewhere else if you want. I thought you liked McDonalds, since you didn’t complain about it.”

“What about Dunkin Donuts? Is there one around here?”

Sokka shrugged and picked up his phone. “I’ll check,” he hummed. “Okay, looks like there’s one just up the road a bit. Let’s go.”

Zuko knew Iroh would scold him if he ate a donut for breakfast, but he reminded himself that it was okay to indulge from time to time. 

As if on cue, his phone vibrated in his hoodie pocket. Sure enough, the caller ID read ‘Iroh’, and he picked up the call as he ate.

“Hello, nephew. How are you?”

“I’m doing well, thank you uncle. How are things over there?” He took another bite of his donut, knowing Iroh would be talking for a bit. 

“Very good, very good. All this summer heat is driving business up! What about you? Yesterday you were in Nebraska, right?”

“Yeah, but So—er, Mai and I are heading to Chicago for today. If we leave early tomorrow morning, we can get to New York by tomorrow night.”

“Take your time. You should drive safely; focus on getting here alive instead of getting here quickly. That being said...I’m excited to see you.”

“I’m excited to see you too, uncle.”

“Alright, drive safe. Text me when you get to Chicago.”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Zuko hung up and breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped his phone back into his hoodie pocket. 

“Was that your uncle?” Sokka asked. 

Zuko nodded. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t tell him about me?”

Zuko chewed his bottom lip and turned to stare out the window. “No. Like I said, I don’t want to complicate things. Besides, we’re basically a day’s worth of travel from New York.”

“Like I said,” Sokka started, “if you want me to just...drop you off, I will.”

Zuko shook his head. “It’d be rude to send you off so abruptly. You should at least stay in New York for a few days. Besides, he’ll know it isn’t Mai either way. She really likes my uncle, and he’ll find it really strange if I just get dropped off with no explanation.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Besides, we’ve been on the road for a while. You should take a few days off before heading home. It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me.”

Sokka wanted to protest but resigned to letting Zuko have his way. Besides, a few days worth of vacation in New York City _did_ sound nice, especially when he thought about the long and often turbulent flight from Quebec City to Salluit. 

“Alright, but I can’t stay for too long. I wanna get home, you know?”

Zuko nodded. “That’s fine.”

Sokka smiled, and Zuko’s heart jumped into his throat. 

“Not related to that, but...we still have a while to go before we get to Chicago. Wanna listen to some throwbacks?”

“What do you mean by ‘throwbacks’? I’m not listening to the fucking Beatles.”

Sokka laughed, “no, no. I mean songs from the early-2000s to the mid-2010s.”

Zuko chewed his lip and glanced out the window. “Is _Bad Romance_ on there?” He asked under his breath. 

“Uh, duh. Of course it is.”

Zuko smiled, and Sokka couldn’t help but notice the tiny dimples that happiness engraved in his cheeks, only noticeable up close. 

“Did you...always have dimples?”

Zuko’s smile dropped. “Yeah, I...kinda hate the way they look,” he sighed. 

“No, no! You’re cute—I mean, they’re cute—!”

Sokka was cute too. Unlike Zuko, his bright smile was a much more permanent feature on his face, and it lit up the entire thing like the ocean at sunset. A curious sparkle danced in his round, cheerful eyes that somehow drew him in. 

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” Sokka chirped as his arms stiffened and he refocused his gaze on the road before them. 

“Okay,” Zuko shrugged. “Want me to put on that playlist you were talking about earlier?”

“Sure, thanks. I know it’s technically illegal to use your phone if you’re driving or whatever,” he scoffed. 

“Yeah,” Zuko picked up the phone, “all those scary PSAs they show you in middle school don’t help.”

“Oh G-d, I remember those,” he shuddered at the memory. How on earth any school board allowed those kinds of things to be shown to kids was beyond him. 

Zuko shuffled the playlist, and _Tik Tok_ by Kesha poured out of the speakers. 

“Oh fuck yes,” Sokka cheered as he turned up the volume dial on the radio. 

And then he started to sing along. It was off-key and sounded terrible, but he didn’t care because it was _fun_. It didn’t matter if Zuko judged him, because the car ride was long and boring and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to enjoy it. 

“C’mon, you know this song, right? It’s basically like karaoke. It’s just us two, and I’m in no place to judge you. Let’s sing!”

Zuko shook his head. “No thanks. I’m good just listening.”

“You have a nice voice, but I won’t pressure you,” Sokka said as he went back to singing along. His voice drowned out the music, even if he wasn’t singing very loud. 

Under normal circumstances, Zuko would find it annoying. Insufferable, even. But for some reason, he found it charming. Maybe it was the look of joy on Sokka’s face, or his cheerful smile, or the way he kept stealing glances at Zuko in an attempt to get him to join in. 

He refused in part because he hated his own voice. Despite having been on T for almost three years, his voice hadn’t deepened as much as he’d hoped. Sometimes just talking could make him dysphoric, so singing was out of the question.

And then _Bad Romance_ came on. 

Zuko told himself it was the exception, that he wouldn’t sing along to any other songs, but the way Sokka’s face lit up as Zuko joined in his one-man karaoke session said otherwise. 

By the time they arrived in Chicago, both of their throats were sore and their voices hoarse.

But it didn’t matter, because he’d actually had fun for the first time in ages. 

“That was awesome!” Sokka laughed as they entered the city. 

Zuko nodded in agreement, breathless. “It was. I...had fun.”

Sokka elbowed him and laughed. “I totally called it. I’ve known for a while that you’re not as much of a stick in the mud as you pretend to be.”

“Hanging out with you is fun,” Zuko laughed as he slid down further into his seat, cheeks flushed. “I haven’t not taken myself seriously in a long time. Thanks, Sokka.”

Sokka’s bright grin spread even further, sparkling in his eyes like sunlight glittering on the ocean. 

“Alright, I’m gonna find a place to park, and then we can get out and walk around. I wanna visit the bean.”

Zuko sat up, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh...what the fuck is _the bean_?”

“It’s not actually called the bean, but it’s a huge metallic bean-shaped piece of architecture called ‘Cloud Gate’. If it were up to me, though, I would’ve just called it the bean.”

“I see.”

“Don’t worry. There’s plenty of other fun stuff to do. Too bad we only have one day,” Sokka sighed. 

“Maybe one day we can come back.”

Sokka’s heart jumped into his throat. “Together?”

“I mean...I guess. If you want.”

A hole formed in his chest at the thought of never seeing Zuko again. He almost didn’t want their trip to end in the fear that Zuko might leave and he might never see him again. 

“I do,” he swallowed thickly. 

“Me too.”

Sokka parked the car and the two of them left the parking garage. 

“So...do you like art?” Sokka asked. 

“Art?”

“Yeah, there’s a really cool art museum just a short walk from here. There’s some pretty famous pieces there too.”

“I thought you wanted to see the bean?”

“I do. The bean is just up the road, so we can see it on our way out. I wanna take a picture there too, of course,” Sokka’s smile widened. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Zuko agreed. 

Despite being raised as part of society’s upper crust, he’d never been big into art, even though he could appreciate it for what it was. He remembered his father’s sprawling mansion and the massive paintings that decorated many a wall, pretentious and overbearing. 

Maybe this would be his chance to appreciate art he’d never seen before, in an environment that was less suffocating and toxic. 

He and Sokka entered the building and meandered through the well-lit, wide halls lined with countless pieces of art, countless mediums from countless times and places. 

Zuko found himself surprised by how pleasant the experience was, commenting on one piece or another every now and then. The art was nice, of course, but Sokka’s rugged beauty stood alone against all the pieces in the building.

Having viewed all the art in the building, the pair left and headed up the street for Millenium Park, the location of the legendary Chicago Bean. As it came into view, Sokka elbowed Zuko and pointed to the metallic, reflective, bean-shaped structure, crowded with tourists who had the same idea they did. 

“Let’s take a picture in front of the bean! I can’t wait to show my dad,” Sokka chirped as he took out his phone and positioned himself so the bean was visible in the background. 

Zuko stood awkwardly beside him, watching as he snapped several photos with different poses. 

“C’mon, let’s take one together so we can remember!” He slung his arm over Zuko’s shoulder and pulled him in for a picture. Zuko stumbled towards Sokka and reached out to steady himself, accidentally sliding his arm around Sokka’s waist. 

“Smile!” 

Zuko forced an awkward smile, cheeks flushed. Sokka took a few photos before removing his arm from its place around Zuko’s shoulder and putting his phone away. 

“Whoa, okay...your hand is there,” he mumbled. 

“Sorry,” Zuko blurted, drawing his arm back. 

“It’s fine. There’s a really cool fountain just down the street, by the way. Wanna check it out?”

Zuko nodded. “I saw it on our way here.”

The two of them went down the street and cut through Grant Park, arriving in front of the massive fountain that stood stark smooth and light against the gray skyline of the city.

“It’s pretty,” Zuko said.

Sokka nodded. “It’s a nice view, but…” he paused, chewing his lip as he looked over at Zuko, “it’s nothing compared to looking at you.”

Zuko’s lips formed into an ‘o’ shape. “What?”

“You’re really handsome, that’s all,” Sokka admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck as he let out a sheepish laugh. 

“Me?”

“Who else would I be talking to, silly?”

Several moments of silence passed between them, and Sokka could see the gears turning in Zuko’s mind. “I...you...you’re handsome too, I think.”

“You think?”

“I just—I don’t know! I’ve never liked a guy before, okay?” Zuko retorted. “And all you’ve done this whole time is walk around with that stupid cute smile on your already good-looking face, and…” he tore his gaze away from Sokka’s, “it makes me want to kiss you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Sokka asked softly.

Zuko shrugged, irritation stiff in his muscles. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t wanna seem weird.”

Sokka laughed and leaned in closer, close enough that their foreheads touched. He put his arms around Zuko’s neck and relished in the fact that he didn’t pull away. 

“Sokka?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Zuko asked. 

“I guess I didn’t realize how pretty your eyes are until now. They’re like...fire, sorta...or maybe a sunset.”

Zuko smiled, and Sokka couldn’t keep himself from pressing his lips against Zuko’s.

In that moment, time stood still. Zuko’s heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he kissed Sokka back, lips tingling as an unfamiliar warmth flooded the empty cavity of his chest. The wind ran its mischievous fingers through his hair, and he wished that these seconds could stretch out into infinity and wrap around him, a comforting hand of eternity. 

But that wasn’t life, and Sokka pulled away several moments later. 

“I don’t know why I did that.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Sokka looked at him. “Are you just saying that?”

“No, of course not. I like you, Sokka.”

His smile widened as he leaned against Zuko’s shoulder. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Nothing. I guess I’m just happy. I didn’t expect this, you know?”

“Neither did I, honestly. This is kind of like—” he stopped himself and cleared his throat, “never mind, that’s a weird thought.”

Sokka smiled up at him, “what? You gotta say it now.”

Zuko averted his gaze, heat blooming across his tan cheeks. “Uh...I...don’t know if you’ll get the reference.”

“Reference? Dude, if you’re gonna say some Harry Potter bullshit, I’m leaving you here.”

Zuko squinted at him. “What? Harry Potter? I—I never even read Harry Potter. The thing I was talking about is a novel.”

“Harry Potter is a novel,” Sokka retorted as he gave Zuko a playful poke on the center of his chest. 

“A _BL novel_.”

“Oh. What’s BL?”

“Like...gay...stuff. You know, like… _Ganbare! Nakamura-kun!!_ 5 and things like that.”

“You lost me,” Sokka sighed, “I only ever watched Pokémon.”

“Okay, well...in the novel, these two guys...they had their first kiss, and it was really passionate...probably because one of them was dead for thirteen years but came back in another body, and his ‘best friend’ was pining for him all that time until they finally had their first kiss. They were travelling together when it happened, so…”

Sokka raised his eyebrows. “Eh? Thirteen years? I could barely go a few hours…either way, I think it’s cute. I didn’t know you liked those kinds of things.”

Zuko laughed nervously. “I don’t talk about it much, since most people find it nerdy or weird.”

Sokka gave a content hum. “So that means you trusted me enough to tell me, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna go to an aquarium? There’s one just down the road, and it’s much bigger than the last one we went to,” Sokka asked. 

“Sure.”

Sokka and Zuko made their way down the street and entered the aquarium. 

Zuko had never cared much for sea life, so he mostly just stared at Sokka the whole time, eyes wide and sparkling with all the wonder of a child seeing the world for the first time. 

They visited the Chicago Observation Deck, which offered a 360° view of the city. Zuko’s heart throbbed painfully in his chest at the terrible height, roofs of buildings spinning and warping beneath his feet. He’d always hated heights, even when he knew there was no possibility of falling. 

“You okay?” Sokka’s voice came from behind him, and he nodded despite the fear that clawed at his stomach. 

“I can tell you’re lying,” he laughed as he took Zuko’s hand in his own and squeezed it. “Scared of heights?”

Zuko swallowed thickly and nodded. “Terrified,” he breathed. 

“Look over there. You can see practically all of Lake Michigan,” Sokka said as he pointed out the massive window to the infinite blue expanse before them. 

“It’s alright, but I guess I still have a soft spot in my heart for Long Beach. I don’t know why, it’s not like anything good ever really happened to me there,” he sighed and ran a hand through his overgrown black hair. 

“You lived there for your entire life. You’re gonna have some attachment to it, even if you didn’t like what happened there.”

“I guess.”

“Since you hate heights, wanna get out of here? There’s a cool down over there.” Sokka gestured in the general direction with his hand. 

“Yeah, this was cool, but...I want to go now,” Zuko agreed. 

“Alright.”

Zuko and Sokka left the Observation Deck and spent several hours at the zoo, enjoying the many exotic animals and laughing together. By the time they finished, the time had rolled into evening, and they found a place downtown to eat before heading to their hotel for the night, where they got a room with only one bed—on purpose this time.

  


* * *

  


“I think that was the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in a long time,” Zuko said as he pulled his shirt down over his binder. 

“I agree,” Sokka stepped into his black jeans and pulled on his socks. 

Zuko sat down on the bed, smiling. “Can we get McMuffins for breakfast?”

Sokka looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “I thought you said you were tired of them?”

Zuko shrugged. “I changed my mind.”

“You’re in a good mood.”

“I guess I’m just excited to finally arrive in New York.”

Sokka sighed, “don’t get too excited. The drive’s almost thirteen hours.”

“Want me to drive?” Zuko asked as he got off the bed and put on his socks. 

“How about I drive halfway, and then we switch over in Pennsylvania?”

“Okay.”

The pair left the hotel and ate a quick breakfast at a surprisingly fancy-looking Chicago McDonald’s before getting on the road. Scenic I-90 took them around the upper curve of Indiana, around Lake Michigan before straightening out past South Bend. 

Driving through Indiana and Ohio was rather uneventful, and Zuko was grateful. Most of the scenery in Ohio was rather uneventful, and he and Sokka sang karaoke to old songs until their throats were sore and they passed the outskirts of Toledo. The edges of Lake Erie pierced his vision on the left, and Sokka glanced out the window to look out over the massive stretch of water. 

“Just across the lake is Ontario. That’s kinda crazy to think about, honestly…”

“Yeah, it is. I’ve never even been to Toronto or anything like that.”

Sokka shrugged. “Eh, Toronto’s okay. It’s kind of overhyped.”

“How much of Canada have you seen?”

“Not that much, really. I’ve seen a lot of Nunavik and many parts of the rest of Quebec, as well as portions Newfoundland and Labrador and Ontario. Everything outside of that is pretty much uncharted territory for me. I love Salluit, but there are some things that you need to go south in order to get. We don’t have any permanent doctors there, so I have to fly to Quebec City or Montreal for a yearly checkup.”

“Jesus, that sounds awful. I can’t imagine flying that far just to see a doctor.”

Sokka clicked his tongue. “Tell me about it. It’s even worse because a lot of our communities are poor and working class, so it’s harder to afford the money for a plane ticket just to do something so simple. That’s why I’m proud of Katara.”

“Your sister, right?”

“Yeah, she’s studying to become a doctor so she can set up a permanent clinic in Salluit. Our childhood friend, Yue, was always really sick as a kid and needed specialist care. Of course, there’s nowhere like that in Nunavik, so her parents constantly had to take her down south to get the care she needed. It eventually became too expensive for them, especially after Yue’s mom went missing. Her dad made the heartbreaking decision to adopt her out to a First Nations family down south so she could have easier access to treatment. She’s much better now, of course, but still has some lingering health problems that’ll last forever. She moved back to Salluit a few years ago and decided to go to school with Katara to become a rare disease specialist to provide services to people in Nunavik who really need them.”

“That’s amazing.”

Sokka nodded. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“What about you? What are you doing?”

Sokka’s proud smile dropped, and he pulled his eyes away from Zuko. “Uh...that’s a good question. I...don’t really know. I’ve kinda just been taking classes from every discipline to try and figure it out, but I’m still not able to.”

An uncomfortable moment of silence hung between them for a few moments before Zuko spoke up again. “Oh. I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I hope so. I don’t wanna graduate not knowing what I want out of life, y’know?”

“Yeah. I know you’ll be able to figure it out though. Don’t work yourself up too much over it,” Zuko reassured. 

“I try not to, but my dad always asks about it. I can’t keep doing general studies forever, so I’m gonna try and decide on my major this summer. Hopefully everything works out,” Sokka sighed. 

“I’ll...I’ll be there for you. If you wanna talk, you can just call me. I’ll give you my number before you head home,” Zuko said. 

“About that…”

Icy terror gripped his chest at the thought that Sokka was _finally_ going to address the elephant in the room. 

“We kinda...kissed, earlier.”

“Yeah...we did, didn’t we?” 

“Is that...what does that mean?” Sokka cleared his throat, and his eyes remained fixed on the horizon.

Zuko shrugged. “I don’t know. Kissing someone doesn’t automatically mean you’re dating, but...I guess...if you want.”

Sokka’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “What are you getting at?”

“What I’m trying to say is...I’ll be your boyfriend, if you want. No pressure or anything…”

“You know...we got to know each other really well, even though it’s only been a week of travelling together. I really like you, Zuko. I guess that’s obvious,” Sokka laughed sheepishly, “I wouldn’t have kissed you otherwise, I guess.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way. I wasn’t really surprised when you kissed me. It just kind of felt right.”

“I mean, I’m DTD if you are.”

Zuko squinted at him. “DTD?”

“Like DTF, but instead of fuck, it’s date,” Sokka laughed. 

Zuko nodded. “Okay.”

“Sweet.”

“Have you ever dated a guy before?”

Sokka nodded. “Yeah, I dated a guy named Jet for a while back in high school, but things sorta fell through and we parted ways.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry,” Sokka gave a dismissive wave and his signature cheerful smile, “I’m over him. We’re still friends, but there’s nothing romantic between us anymore.”

“I don’t doubt you,” Zuko watched as the large sign reading ‘Welcome to Pennsylvania’ sped past out the window. 

“We just passed the Ohio-Pennsylvania border, so let’s get off somewhere and switch. My hands hurt,” Sokka laughed.

They stopped just down the road at the welcome center, and Zuko took over the driving for the rest of the journey. 

The thought of finally arriving in New York was both thrilling and terrifying. He’d lived in Long Beach since he was a boy, and now he might not ever see it again. Not only that, but his week-long cross-country adventure was about to come to an end. Of course, New York had its share of beautiful sights to see, and his heart skipped a few beats at the thought of sneaking out at night to explore his new home city with Sokka by his side, getting lost and finding themselves together in the city that never sleeps. A blade of guilt stabbed his chest upon remembering that he’d left Azula behind, but he told himself that he would do what he could to fix it. 

He would do what he could to right Ozai’s wrongs, even over two thousand miles away. 

And at last, he could safely continue with his transition at no risk to himself. He’d have to find a new doctor and iron things out with his insurance company, but those things were inconsequential in the face of truly being able to restart his life and be the person he wanted. 

“You look cute when you smile,” Sokka sighed. Zuko glanced at him out of his peripheral, a lovestruck look gracing his handsome face. “What’s got you like that?”

“I guess I’m just excited to finally be free and live how I want. My dad doesn’t have the power to define my life for me anymore, and it makes me happy.”

“I’m happy for you too, Zuko.”

Zuko’s cheeks hurt from smiling. 

He enjoyed the quiet and scenic drive down I-80, the city turning into thick forests and back into cities again. With every mile closer to New York they got, the giddy euphoria in his chest grew and grew until it expanded into a massive ocean of sheer joy, and then the sun grew hot and the ocean evaporated and turned into a pit of dust as the car slowed to a stop. Zuko pulled onto the side of the road as the engine died, eyes wide with shock.

“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?” Sokka sat up and looked around, as if some unseen force had stopped the car in its tracks.

“I...I don’t know. It just suddenly stopped, I swear I didn’t do anything!” Zuko raised his hands defensively. 

“I believe you. Lemme look,” Sokka leaned over and squinted at the dashboard. Almost immediately, he noticed that the low fuel button was flashing red. Beside it, the needle that indicated how much gas remained in the tank sat fixed at the white ‘E’.

_Shit._

“Uh...I think we’re out of gas. Look,” he said as he pointed to the indicator light.

Zuko groaned and pressed his palm against his forehead. “Shit, are you serious? Augh, god damn it! I didn’t even bother to check the fuel level!” He groaned and slammed his fists against the steering wheel.

Sokka’s hand rested on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Relax. We’ll get it sorted out,” he reassured. 

Zuko glowered at him. “How?! We’re completely out of gas. What are we gonna do, get out and push?”

A few cars zoomed past on the road beside them.

“Whatever happens, I don’t want to have to interact with the police.”

Sokka gave a solemn nod of agreement. “Yeah, that means time isn’t exactly our friend.” 

“Should we call someone?”

“Uh...who? No offense, but...NYC is about five hours away. I don’t have roadside assistance or anything like that either, and like you said, neither of us want to call the cops,” Sokka pinched the bridge of his nose, muscles in his jaw tightening. 

Zuko shrugged, his irritation obvious. “I don’t know.” He snatched up his phone and searched for gas stations nearby, letting out a groan as the little red destination indicators popped up. 

“What?” Sokka craned his neck to look at Zuko’s phone.

“The closest gas station is over an hour’s walk away,” Zuko responded dejectedly.

Sokka cringed. “Yikes.”

“Yeah. That’s a pretty far walk, across a busy interstate.”

“It would take over two hours to get there and back...talk about a headache.”

Zuko groaned and pressed his head against the headrest. “Well what are we supposed to do, then? I’m _not_ calling my uncle. It’s like you said, NYC is over five hours away, and my uncle doesn’t have a car anyways.”

“Well, I guess our only choice is to flag someone down and ask them.” He gently pried Zuko’s phone from his hand and looked down at the screen. “The gas station you mentioned earlier is only a ten minute drive, so it shouldn’t be too big of a detour.”

“Alright. I guess we should try and get someone to stop for us.”

Zuko gritted his teeth at the thought. “Maybe I should do it.”

“What? Zuko, with all due respect, your social skills are kind of…”

“I know, bad. But...I feel like people would trust me more, and be less likely to hurt me if they just so happen to be really racist or something, you know? It’s not you, just…” he trailed off, chewing his lip.

The hurt that flashed in Sokka’s eyes was unmistakable. “Yeah, I get it. I’m an indigenous brown guy, and you’re Asian. You have a point. Thanks for looking out for me.”

Zuko turned on the hazard lights and got out of the car. He moved around to the passenger side and began to flail his arms frantically at passersby, hoping to catch someone’s attention. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for someone to pull off on the shoulder in front of them. Zuko’s heart jumped into his throat, throbbing painfully as the stranger’s door opened. 

A man who seemed to be around five years older than Zuko and Sokka stepped out of the car. Much to Zuko’s relief, he also appeared to be Asian. He was dressed in a green sweater and had a strange black and white creature around his neck, which Zuko thought of as resembling a weasel of sorts. 

“Hey!” The man said, making his way towards Zuko with an outstretched hand.

“Uh...hey.”

“What happened? Need a jump?” The man asked as he shook Zuko’s hand. “Name’s Bolin, and this is Pabu,” he smiled as he gestured to the animal draped over his neck. 

“Zuko, and no. It actually ran out of gas.”

Bolin nodded. “Nice to meet you! I can go to the gas station for you. There’s one just down the road a bit, actually.”

“Do you...live around here?” Zuko asked.

Bolin laughed and shook his head. “Nah, but I come this way a lot. Anyways, do you have a jerry can or something? For the gas.”

“Yeah, there’s one in the trunk.”

As he passed the car, Zuko went around to the trunk and knocked on it. Sokka unlocked it, and Zuko got the can and brought it to Bolin. 

“Alright, cool. I’ll be back in a few minutes, so just wait here.”

Zuko stopped him. “Wait, don’t you want money? To pay for the gas, I mean.”

“No, I’ll just take it when I get back,” Bolin said as he returned to his car and left, pulling off the shoulder and vanishing down the road. 

Zuko breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned against the car. Sokka opened the door and stepped out, stretching. “I’m assuming it went okay? That guy seemed nice.”

“Yeah,” Zuko nodded and leaned in towards Sokka. “Did you see that fuzzy thing around his neck? It was some kind of animal.”

Sokka snorted. “I’m pretty sure it’s a ferret.”

“What the _fuck_ is a ferret?”

“They’re a pretty common pet, since they’re sorta like a mix of a cat and a dog, but smaller. Honestly, they’re pretty cute. Suki used to have one as a pet.”

Zuko took a long sip of his now-lukewarm soda. “Who’s Suki?”

“My ex,” Sokka responded. “We started dating when I came to CSU, but she left after her second semester to go to another college and didn’t really want to do the whole long-distance thing,” he shrugged. 

“Oh.”

“Surprised?” Sokka asked. 

Zuko shook his head. “Not really, why?”

“I dunno. Just cause...you’ve never had ex before, right?”

Zuko rubbed at the back of his neck. “That isn’t exactly true. Mai and I dated for a little while, but that was literally in middle school. It doesn’t even count.”

“You mentioned that. Was it before you knew you were gay?” 

“Yeah, it was. It was before I knew I was trans too. Mai was _just_ starting to experiment with gender and stuff, so it was her baby trans phase.”

“She’s trans too?”

Zuko nodded. “She’s a trans woman, and she’s also a lesbian. Maybe that’s why we ended up as such good friends,” he laughed. 

Sokka leaned back against the headrest. “It’s good to meet someone else who didn’t ‘always know’. That you’re trans, I mean. I feel like a lot of people I know in our community say they just kind of...always knew that they were trans. I’m like you, though. I didn’t really know until my last year of high school.”

“Yeah, I get that. I found out around the same time.”

“If you ever need recommendations for a surgeon, my top surgeon was amazing. He was super nice and explained everything, as well as answering all my questions. He’s Cree too, but he also serves non-indigenous clients.”

Zuko smiled. “Thanks. I have a surgeon lined up in New York already, but it means a lot.”

Sokka placed his hand on Zuko’s thigh and leaned in, grinning smugly. “Can I kiss you?”

“Mm…” 

Sokka pressed his lips against Zuko’s, cheeks warm and the faint scent of mint lingering on his lips. Zuko smiled into the kiss, and Sokka placed his hand on Zuko’s face as he stroked his flushed cheeks with his thumb. 

He pulled away momentarily, breath heavy and hot and eyes half-lidded. “How come I never realized how hot you look when you’re like this?” Sokka breathed. 

Zuko laughed, “I could say the same about you.”

Sokka clicked his tongue and grabbed Zuko’s wrists, sliding his hands up into his and weaving their fingers together as he pushed Zuko up against the door. His knee slid between Zuko’s legs as he kissed him again.

Sokka’s heart jumped into his throat as a knock came against the tinted glass of the window. He jumped off of Zuko and scrambled back into the passenger seat. 

Zuko swallowed thickly and turned to look out the window. Bolin stood outside, hands pressed against his forehead above his eyebrows as he looked through the window, a cheerful grin plastered on his face. 

A groan fell from Zuko’s lips, and he shot a disappointed look at Sokka.

“Jesus, he nearly gave me a heart attack,” Sokka muttered. 

Zuko opened the door and got out. For some reason, he expected Bolin to ask about Sokka, but he didn’t. 

“Hey, here’s the gas. It’s more than enough to get you to the gas station down the road,” Bolin said as he held out the can. 

Zuko took it and placed it down beside the car and fished out his wallet. He paid for the gas, and Bolin waved to him as he walked towards his car. 

“Bye! Have a safe drive!”

Zuko waved back. “Thanks for your help.” He held his breath as he watched Bolin get into his car and drive away, breathing a sigh of relief as the vehicle disappeared down the interstate. 

Sokka got out of the car and came around to Zuko’s side. “Did he...see us?”

“I’m not sure. If he did, he didn’t say anything,” Zuko murmured, his cheeks flushed with the heat of embarrassment. “Either way, we should probably get back on the road, unless we want to get to New York in the dead of night.”

Sokka nodded and put the gas in, and they went to the gas station that Bolin had gone to earlier before getting back on the road for the final stretch of the journey. Outside, the thickly forested Pennsylvania countryside filled both of their visions with green. It gave way to cities and back to forest again, and the sun sank below the horizon two hours before they arrived.

“I’m hungry,” Sokka groaned.

“Yeah, me too, but I don’t feel like stopping. We’ll be there in a little less than two hours, and we can eat then. We’re already behind from when we ran out of gas earlier, and I don’t want to arrive at my uncle’s doorstep at midnight when he might not even be awake.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

Zuko shot him a sidelong glance. “Tell him what?”

Sokka shrugged. “Literally everything.”

“I’ll have to tell him eventually, so yes. He’s going to wonder about you too, but he’s not homophobic,” Zuko said.

Sokka still seemed uneasy. “I...there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“What? You can ask me whatever.”

Sokka sighed. “Guess I’ll just get right to the fuckin’ point. Are you coming to Salluit with me?”

Silence, and Zuko’s lips pressed into a frown. “We aren’t even in New York yet.”

The car passed over the New York side of the Delaware Water Gap Toll Bridge. 

“Now we are,” Sokka said with a smug grin.

Zuko huffed. “I don’t know, okay? I just...I haven’t even gotten to see my uncle, and we’ve both been on the road for a week. I guess I just need some time to think. I know you’re probably homesick, but I am too.”

Sokka remained silent as he stared out at the New York countryside, the faint, great cloud of foggy light from New York City clinging to the horizon. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, that was kind of a dick move. You haven’t even had time to settle in and I’m already questioning you about going to another country with me.” Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to look Zuko in the eyes. 

“It’s fine. I just want a few days to be able to get on my feet. If you want to leave before then, that’s fine.”

Sokka shook his head. “I’m okay with staying here for a few days, unless you don’t want me around.”

“What? Sokka, why would I not want you around? Do you seriously think I would’ve come all this way with you if I didn’t want you around? I could’ve easily taken a ride with someone else, but I didn’t, because...I like having you around.”

“Thanks, Zuko.”

The rest of the trip passed in relative silence. As Zuko pulled into the parking lot of the Jasmine Dragon, heart pounding in his chest and blood racing in his ears, he picked up his phone and glanced out the windshield. The light in Iroh’s apartment was on, even though his tea shop was closed for the night.

He took a deep breath and called Iroh, glancing over at Sokka, asleep in the passenger seat beside him.

“Zuko? Why are you calling me so late, is everything okay?”

“I’m here, uncle.”

“What? Now? Why didn’t you tell me earlier. I would’ve prepared tea and a meal for you. Are you hungry?”

“Very.”

Iroh laughed, and Zuko couldn’t keep himself from smiling. “I’m in the parking lot, let me unpack my things and bring them in.”

The sound of fabric rustling and shifting came through the other side of the line. “Nonsense, let me help you. I want to meet Mai, too.”

Zuko’s stomach twisted into a knot, and bile burned the back of his throat. “About that…”

“What? Oh, does she not want to see me?”

“No, I just...I’ll explain in person. I’ll start unpacking.”

“Alright. I’ll be down in a moment.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon,” Iroh laughed.

Zuko hung up and slid his phone into his hoodie pocket, and stole a guilty glance at Sokka, his face pressed against the seatbelt and mouth slightly ajar.

He unlocked the trunk and went around to the back, removing his suitcase from amongst Sokka’s many things. 

“Zuko?”

Iroh’s voice came from a few dozen feet away.

Zuko placed his suitcase on the sidewalk and ran to Iroh, who received him with open arms. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. How was your trip?”

Zuko let out a hoarse laugh. “Uncle, you’re crushing me. I’m wearing my binder, remember?”

Iroh promptly let go of him and nodded. “Right, yes, sorry. How was it?”

“Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

Iroh smiled and glanced around Zuko. “Need help unpacking Mai’s things?”

Zuko chewed his lip and shook his head. “That was what I wanted to tell you...Mai isn’t here.”

“What? I thought you said she was going to visit her relatives in Maine?”

“Uh…” he averted his gaze, “yeah, sorry...I lied about that. I actually came here with a guy named Sokka. I...please don’t be mad at me for saying this, but I hitchhiked. I met Sokka right outside of CSU; he’s a really nice guy and I travelled the whole way with him. I’m really, really sorry uncle. I know I should’ve told you, but...I didn’t want to cause trouble, and I hate flying, and plane tickets are so expensive, I just—” 

Iroh shushed him. “Zuko, it’s alright. I’m not mad. I’m grateful that you told me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Zuko shrugged. “I guess I just thought you would be so worried about me that you’d impulsively fly me out here.”

Iroh laughed. “That’s probably what would’ve happened. So that’s why you pretended you were with Mai all this time, huh?”

“Yeah. Believe me, Sokka is a really nice guy. Besides, he’s the only person I hitchhiked with.”

Iroh shook his head. “Zuko, what have I told you about getting in a car with someone you don’t know?”

“I know, uncle. I’m sorry. I worried he was a serial killer for a while, honestly. Turns out he isn’t. He’s just a really cool guy who loves being sarcastic and eating.”

“Can I meet him?”

“Uh...he’s sleeping, but...I guess I should wake him up so we can bring our things in,” Zuko said.

Iroh nodded and grabbed Zuko’s suitcase. “I’ll take this inside and put it in your room, and I’ll cook something for you two as well.”

Zuko wanted to protest, but he was hungry enough that his stomach would probably start digesting itself soon if he didn’t eat, and he knew there was no telling his uncle not to when it came to making food for him. 

“Okay.”

Iroh took Zuko’s suitcase inside and left him and Sokka alone.

Zuko returned to the car to awaken his boyfriend.

“Sokka, come on. Wake up, we’re here.” 

Sokka mumbled something in his dream. “Mmmm… _mattaaq_ 6...”

“Sokka. Get up, seriously.”

“Ugh...huh?” Sokka groaned as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What?”

“We’re here, let’s unpack,” Zuko said. 

“What about...mm...what about your uncle?” Sokka asked, his eyelids still heavy with sleep.

Zuko leaned in and pressed a kiss against Sokka’s lips. “I told him I was travelling with you, but I haven’t told him everything. Let’s just unpack first.”

Sokka nodded and slid out of his seat, clutching his stomach. “Ugh, I’m hungry...I was having such an amazing dream,” he sighed as he went around to the trunk and took out his suitcase as well as a few other bags. “I was surrounded by a giant pile of _mattaaq_.”

“Don’t worry, my uncle said he’s going to cook something for us. His food is delicious, so you’ll definitely be satisfied,” Zuko grabbed one of the bags and closed the trunk. “Is this everything?”

“Yeah, the rest of the stuff can stay,” Sokka mumbled as he followed Zuko towards the door. The two went inside and navigated their way through the dimly-lit and empty cafe. Beside the kitchen and bathrooms was a wooden staircase that led to a small apartment above the cafe. Zuko opened the door and was greeted with the gentle smell of incense. 

Iroh exited the kitchen, wearing a black apron bearing the name of his tea shop and its logo and holding a cooking spoon.

“Is your friend staying with us?”

Zuko blushed, “he can just...stay in my room. It’s only for a few days, sorry.”

Iroh shrugged. “I don’t mind. There’s a _futon_ 7 in the closet that you can use.”

“Thanks.”

“Your suitcase is in your room. Get settled for the night, and I’ll call for you when the food is ready.”

Zuko smiled and motioned for Sokka to follow him down the short, narrow hall that led to his bedroom, a plain wooden door that was opposite a storage closet of some sort. He paused in front of the door, hand on the knob. 

This was going to be his new bedroom for the foreseeable future, at least until he moved out, which he knew wasn’t going to happen any time soon. 

Not that he minded. He liked Iroh, and living here was a million times better than being around his father.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t going to miss the strange, kitchy charm of he and Mai’s shared dorm, but that was a sacrifice he had to make along the road of breaking Ozai’s grip on him, and he was willing to make it as long as he never had to speak to that man again.

Zuko opened the door and fumbled for the light switch. The room was small and plain-looking, with a bed flush against the wall to his left, a few feet away from a single window that was so old it didn’t have a screen on the outside. To the right was a wardrobe-style storage closet and a dresser. Beside the bed was a small nightstand with a lamp perched on top of it, and he instantly noticed a letter illuminated by the lamp’s soft yellow light. Iroh had left his suitcase at the foot of his bed, just as he’d stated earlier.

Sokka rubbed at his eyes and placed his bags on the floor, creaky old hardwood stained deep brown and covered in the center with a surprisingly soft red and yellow rug.

“This place isn’t half bad,” Sokka said as he sat down on the rug.

Zuko retrieved the futon from the closet and spread it out on the floor. Sokka crawled onto it and curled up, burying his face in the pillow and cocooning himself in the blanket as he let out a satisfying sigh. “So comfy~” He watched with a content grin on his face as Zuko unzipped his suitcase and started unpacking. 

“Who’s that? He’s hot,” Sokka sat up as he watched Zuko tack one of the posters onto his wall. 

“Uh…” Zuko laughed sheepishly, “Xiao Zhan. I’ve...had...a crush on him...since I entered college…”

“What are you flustered about?”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know, it’s just weird, okay? It feels like talking about your embarrassing middle school crushes.”

Sokka shrugged. “You’re too overdramatic. He’s hot and you repressed your gayness for basically your entire life. Besides, you literally have a giant poster of his pretty face.”

“It’s like you said. I pretended I wasn’t gay for so long, I went back to my phase of having crushes on hot celebs,” he sighed. 

A soft but firm knock came against the door. “Zuko, the food is ready. Are you still hungry?”

“I’m famished.” He got down from his bed and motioned for Sokka to follow. Somehow, all three of them managed to squeeze into the tiny dining room adjacent to the kitchen. A delicious-looking spread of simple Japanese food covered the table, and the smell alone was enough to make Sokka start drooling. 

As they ate, Iroh looked from Zuko to Sokka, and then back at Zuko. “You should introduce me to your friend, Zuko.”

“Right. Uncle, this is Sokka. Sokka, this is my uncle Iroh.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sokka smiled and extended his arm across the table. Iroh shook his hand and laughed. 

“Nice to meet you too. Thanks for bringing my nephew all this way, and in one piece nonetheless.”

Sokka laughed through a mouthful of delicious _yakitori_ 8 and rice. “Mhmm, travelling with him was way more fun than travelling alone.”

“You should tell me about your trip, at least a little. How was Vegas?”

Sokka’s eyes sparkled. “It was amazing, wasn’t it, Zuko?”

“Yeah, it was pretty cool. Sokka and I have done so much fun stuff that it’s kind of hard to keep track of everything.”

“I see,” Iroh stroked his beard, “so that’s why it took you two so long to arrive.”

“Yeah, we stopped for multiple day trips and stayed at hotels overnight, which is why it took us a week to get here. We probably could’ve made it in three or four days if we only stopped when we absolutely had to.”

Sokka leaned back in his chair, “where’s the fun in that? I mean, if you’re gonna travel cross-country, why not stop and do stuff whilst you’re there? I mean, when’s the next time you’ll have the chance to go to Vegas?”

“I’m not going back to California anytime soon,” Zuko responded.

“Exactly.”

“So, Sokka...where are you headed?” Iroh asked. “Or, what brought you all the way here?”

“I’m going to Salluit over the summer. It’s in Nunavik, which is the northern part of Quebec. I was born and raised there, and I go back at least once a year to see my dad and my gran-gran...and to keep myself from dying of homesickness.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever heard of it,” Iroh admitted.

“Don’t feel bad. Most people haven’t, since it’s not exactly a bustling city. The fact that it’s _also_ on Inuit land doesn’t help,” Sokka sighed. “Actually, I’m kinda grateful, because that means our village isn’t overrun by white tourists with no respect for our culture.”

“And you’re driving there?”

“No way, you can’t reach Salluit by car. The roads that lead out of the village aren’t suitable for cars. I’m flying.”

Zuko looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t say there was a flight.”

“Really? I thought I did. Well, whatever. Yea, you have to fly. Like I said, the roads aren’t suitable for cars. Even if they were, there’s no possible way to get to Nunavik from south Quebec, because the roads that do exist don’t connect.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, but I take the flight a lot, so it’s not a big deal at this point. I know basically all the pilots, since it’s not like flights to Salluit are common,” he said as he let out a satisfied sigh and placed his empty bowl on the table. He raised his arms above his head in a stretch and yawned.

“Man, I’m exhausted,” he said.

“Me too. Probably because I nearly had a heart attack when we ran out of gas,” Zuko responded.

Iroh took a sip of his tea and cast an inquisitive glance at his nephew. “You ran out of gas?”

“Yeah,” Zuko laughed sheepishly. “I guess I got so caught up in thinking about getting here that I completely forgot to check how much gas we had. The car actually stopped, thankfully not in the middle of the interstate. We must’ve been driving on fumes for a while.”

“But Zuko met a nice guy who bought gas for us, so everything ended up okay.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Iroh asked, although his tone wasn’t anywhere close to accusatory.

“Uncle, with all due respect, we were over five hours away. I wasn’t going to make you come all this way. Besides, you don’t have a car. How would you have gotten to us?”

“I don’t have a car, you’re right,” he said, “but Yu does.”

“Yu?”

Iroh chuckled. “There are many things you don’t know about me, Zuko. Just because I’m an old man doesn’t mean I don’t have a love life. Besides, I’ve been needing another set of hands around here for a while now. The Jasmine Dragon is no longer just a little tea shop, and I need someone to help me.”

“I promised you I would help you in exchange for letting me stay with you. I don’t intend to go back on that promise,” Zuko said, pressing his lips together. 

“I know. I’m grateful for all the help I can get, and that includes yours. However, Yu and I met several months before your father…” Iroh trailed off.

“It’s fine. Sokka knows. You can say it,” the painful defeat in Zuko’s voice was plain as day.

“My point is, Yu and I met a while back.”

“Are you...going to tell us about them? Don’t leave me hanging. We’re going to be living together from now on after all, so you may as well tell me now and get it out of the way,” Zuko said to him.

“Sure. Yu is a regular here, and they work at the _H Mart_ 9 up the road a bit. That means we see each other a lot. They’re around my age, but they recently moved here from Vancouver. They told me they wanted a change of pace. We got to talking and just kind of hit it off,” Iroh shrugged.

“Oh sweet, a fellow _Canuck_ 10,” Sokka pumped his fist in the air.

“I thought you said you don’t really see yourself as Canadian,” Zuko retorted.

Sokka huffed and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m Canadian when it’s convenient. After all, the country _did_ oh-so-rudely establish itself on my people’s land. It’s only fair.”

Iroh laughed. “I like him. You’re lucky to have such a good friend, Zuko.”

“Yeah...friend…” Zuko cleared his throat and grabbed his dishes, “anyways, I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m going to head to bed. Thanks for the food, uncle. See you tomorrow.” He placed his dishes in the sink and quickly made for his bedroom down the hall.

“Right behind you,” Sokka called. He put his bowl and silverware in the sink and followed Zuko down the hall. “Oh yeah, thanks for the food!” Sokka called as he entered Zuko’s bedroom and shut the door.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked as he pressed his back against the closed door.

“What did you want me to say? ‘Oh, we’re dating?’ Besides, we _are_ technically friends. Every good romance is founded on a good friendship or whatever,” Zuko gave a dismissive wave.

Sokka groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know you’re gonna have to tell him at some point, right? It’s gonna be really hard to keep from kissing you.”

A smile pulled at the corners of Zuko’s lips, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Let’s just go to sleep. I’m exhausted from driving.”

“Okay, okay.”

Zuko no longer cared about changing in front of Sokka, and Sokka didn’t seem to mind either. They both changed into loose, comfortable t-shirts and shorts, and somehow managed to cram themselves into the small bathroom as they brushed their teeth. Zuko looked over the disheveled person staring back at him, and a small pang of regret shot through his chest at the thought of how he could’ve made himself look at least a little more presentable.

Oh well. 

He and Sokka both returned to the bedroom, and Zuko turned out the light before crawling beneath the four thick blankets atop the bed, the ones he’d brought with him from his dorm.

Sokka planted himself onto the surprisingly comfortable futon and wrapped himself in the blanket, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

Zuko stared out the window at the silver scrap of moon that hung in the sky, the shimmering, flickering New York City skyline destroying any hope of seeing the stars. He thought back to the night he and Sokka went camping, and remembered how beautiful the sky had looked away from busy city skylines polluted by light. 

He longed to see it again, even just once. For some strange reason he couldn’t explain, the sight filled him with hope. Maybe, if he looked up at the stars for long enough, the secrets surrounding what happened to his mother would become clear, and he could find her and have her somehow convince Azula to leave Ozai behind and start a life of her own.

Maybe. Somehow.

  


* * *

  


A low, humming din of chatter and the sound of silverware against plates awoke Zuko the next morning. He glanced over at the alarm clock on his nightstand, the blurry red letters glaring back at him. He rubbed at his tired eyes and looked again.

8:07 AM. 

Sokka, unlike him, had kicked his blanket off in the night, and was sprawled out almost diagonally across the futon, drooling onto the floor.

Zuko couldn’t help but laugh. How he slept was strangely charming. Even if he may have previously found the behavior annoying or strange, love clouded his vision too much.

He slid out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower, and after he got out, he eagerly took the opportunity to make himself look more presentable than he had last night. 

Returning to his bedroom, he meandered around the still-sleeping Sokka and sat on his bed, picking up his phone from its place on the nightstand beside him. His lock screen displayed a single message preview from Mai that simply read ‘call me when you can’.

With a sigh, he left his room and went downstairs, passing through the packed cafe as he stepped outside.

The air was warm and crisp with the sharp bite of summer, but it lacked the scorching heat of California’s never-ending, sweltering sun. Zuko noticed a bench just barely out of sight between several thick, tall bamboo trees that were planted in a small zen garden beside the cafe. It looked well-cared for, with the grass in the small clearing neatly trimmed and several small flower beds and bushes decorating the area. A charming, slightly overgrown stone path led through it and around to what he assumed was the back door of the cafe. He sat down on the bench and looked down into the clear, rippling water of the koi pond. A miniature waterfall poured down from a stack of rocks and into the pond, providing water circulation for the fish that occupied it. Beside the koi pond was an old-looking stone statue of a Buddha, moss clinging to its washed-out surface. In its worn hands was a container of koi food with a label taped to it that read ‘DO NOT OVERFEED KOI, USE THE SCOOP OR THEY WILL BECOME FAT!!’, exclamation points included. Zuko chuckled and unscrewed the cap, using the scoop and tossing the food into the pond. He put the food container back and called Mai, dial tone piercing the serene silence.

“Hello?” Mai’s disinterested voice poured through the speaker.

“Hey, Mai. It’s me...Zuko.”

“Oh. Hey. Where are you right now?”

“New York.”

“Really? You got there safe?” He could hear the smile in Mai’s voice.

“Yeah. We just arrived last night.”

“‘We’?”

Zuko let out a breath. “It’s a long story. Basically, I met a guy in Long Beach who just so happened to be travelling to Nunavik, and I hitchhiked all the way here with him.”

“What? You spent the entire journey with just one guy? Also, where’s Nunavik?”

“Yeah, he was more than happy to drop me off here. Also, Nunavik is the northern part of Quebec.”

“How was the trip?”

“It was amazing. We stopped in so many places I would’ve never otherwise seen…”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?”

‘I told you, it’s a long story.’

“I’ve got time. It’s Sunday, remember?”

Zuko sighed and relayed the story back to her, sparing a few of the more embarrassing details. 

“So that’s how it is, huh?”

Behind him, footsteps tapped against the stone path that led into the small zen garden. Iroh rounded the corner and smiled at him.

“Hey, my uncle wants to talk with me. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay. See ya.”

“Bye.”

Zuko hung up and slid his phone into his pocket. “Hey uncle.”

“Hi, Zuko. Are you hungry?”

Zuko nodded. 

“Sokka is awake, he was looking for you.”

“Shit, really?” 

Iroh nodded. “Come inside. I’ll bring you and Sokka some breakfast.”

“It’s okay. We can go out and get something. There’s plenty of places to eat around here, and I’m sure Sokka probably wants to explore before he has to leave. Tell Sokka to come out here, I wanna talk with him.”

Iroh nodded and disappeared back inside for a few moments before Sokka exited in his place.

“Hey, where were you?” Sokka asked.

Zuko motioned for him to follow as he returned to the small zen garden and sat on the bench. Sokka sat beside him, and they placed their hands on top of one another’s. “Sorry, you were still asleep when I woke up, and I wanted to let you sleep.” 

Sokka rested his head against Zuko’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Thanks for letting me sleep.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, your uncle offered to cook for us.”

Zuko shook his head. “Let’s go eat somewhere instead. Besides, don’t you wanna explore the city before you have to leave?”

“You have a point. Let’s go find a place to eat.”

The two left the zen garden and made their way down the busy streets of Astoria. Sokka’s hand brushed against the back of Zuko’s palm, and he almost drew his hand away.

_Almost._

“Wait, I forgot...this is New York,” Sokka chirped, and slid his hand into Zuko’s. 

Zuko breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed Sokka’s hand. “And nobody recognizes me,” he said to himself. His newfound veil of anonymity was incredibly freeing. It was as if he’d been reborn as an entirely new person. Nobody stared at him as they walked past, and he was thankful. A couple of people shot them strange looks, but he didn’t really mind anymore.

The pair stopped at a small, quaint cafe on a busy street corner and ate their fill of delicious pancakes coated in syrup, just how the both of them liked it. Zuko stole a sip of Sokka’s apple juice, and both of them let their guard down at last.

“Where do you wanna go now?” Sokka asked as they exited the restaurant. 

“Let’s go back and get the car. I want to go to H Mart.” 

“H Mart? Isn’t that where Yu works?” Sokka asked.

Zuko nodded. “There’s like, fifty H Marts around here, though. My uncle never specified which one Yu works at, so I guess it’s just a shot in the dark. Let’s just go to the closest one.”

They returned to the parking lot of the Jasmine Dragon and got into the car, driving to the H Mart that was about ten minutes down the road.

By the time they arrived, Sokka was out of breath. “Jesus. People in New York don’t know how to fucking drive.”

“It’s awful,” Zuko said as he got out of the car.

“Why’d you wanna come here so bad?” Sokka asked as they entered the H Mart. 

“Nostalgia. As a kid, I always used to come here with my mom. I would beg her to buy me a snack, and she’d always give in,” he laughed at the memory of it, but his chest burned with the familiar ache of loss and sadness. 

“Oh, I see. I guess it’s sorta like how I always used to go hunting with my dad as a kid.”

“I guess,” Zuko shrugged. “Anyways, I’ll buy some snacks.”

Sokka looked around nervously. “Yeah, it’s probably best I leave that to you. I don’t know what any of this stuff is.” He followed Zuko down another aisle and watched the cute way his face scrunched up in concentration as he looked over the wall of snacks. 

He laughed as he picked up a box with some Korean text printed on it and tucked it under his arm. “I always ate these as a kid. I would be ecstatic when my mom bought them, because Azula hates them, so it would mean I got the entire box to myself. She says they’re too dry, but I find them delicious.” His smile twisted into a frown at the thought of his sister. 

He never actually thought he’d miss her, yet here he was.

“Are you okay?” Sokka asked as he placed his hand on Zuko’s shoulder.

“Fine. I guess...hindsight is always twenty-twenty, you know?”

All Sokka could do was nod. “Yeah.”

He didn’t know, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it, and instead just wordlessly followed Zuko into another aisle. They passed by a cooler, and Zuko stopped to open it.

“Have you ever had this?” He asked as he held up a small package of little peach-colored bottles with a red label.

“Yeah, we have milk in Nunavik.”

Zuko laughed. “It’s not milk. It’s called _yakult_ 11, and it tastes like the nectar of the gods.”

“Ya...kult?”

“You have to try it. Let’s drink some in the car,” Zuko thrust two packages of the _yakult_ into Sokka’s arms.

“It’s cold,” he squeaked. 

“Didn’t you grow up in the literal arctic?” Zuko replied teasingly.

Sokka huffed and rolled his eyes in a playful manner. “That doesn’t mean I’m immune to cold.”

“Okay, we’ll only be a few more minutes. I just wanna get one last thing.” 

He picked up a bag of guava hard candy, another nostalgic piece of his childhood. His father always kept a bowl of them in his office, and their mother always had at least one bag tucked away in the pantry.

They headed to one of the registers, where an older person with white hair and glasses was conversing with another customer in Mandarin. Zuko understood most of what they were saying, and greeted the cashier as he came up to the register.

“Ah, hello!” 

Zuko squinted to read their name tag as he placed his groceries on the belt, Sokka following suit.

 _Yu_.

“Do you know Iroh?” Zuko asked in Mandarin.

Yu’s expression lit up, and their lips spread into a smile. “Yes! Iroh from the Jasmine Dragon?”

Zuko nodded. “He’s my uncle.”

“You’re Zuko?” Yu gasped as they scanned the items and placed them into a bag.

“I assume my uncle told you about me already, then?”

“He did, but he didn’t tell me you spoke Chinese,” Yu said as they watched Zuko put his card into the reader. 

“Yeah, my mom is Chinese, and I grew up speaking it with her and her side of the family. But Iroh’s side is Japanese, so I speak three languages,” Zuko replied.

“Wow, Iroh was right. You _are_ talented,” Yu smiled and handed Zuko the bag. “I’ll let you go; nobody wants to drink room-temperature _yakult_.”

Zuko laughed and thanked them before leaving.

“What were you two talking about?” Sokka asked.

“Oh, that was Yu. My uncle mentioned them last night, remember? I basically just introduced myself, since I didn’t wanna stand around too much and let the _yakult_ get warm. It tastes much better when it’s cold.”

The two of them got into the car, and Zuko handed Sokka one of the drinks. He took one for himself and peeled the foil off the top before taking a small sip. 

“Ah, just like I remember,” he sighed happily.

Sokka did the same, enjoying the cold, sweet flavor of the drink. “Whoa, this _is_ really good. You were right. It tastes even better on days like this, when it’s warm out.”

Zuko nodded. “Isn’t it good? I remember I used to sit outside with my mom and Azula in the summer and drink these to cool down…” he trailed off at the mention of the quickly-fading happy memories he had with his mother. 

“Anyways, let’s head back and put the groceries away. Then we can go find some stuff to do around the city,” he said.

“Okay.”

Zuko drove back to the Jasmine Dragon and put the groceries away before heading back out into the city with Sokka. He’d opted to leave the car behind, as the cost of parking was much more expensive than a train ticket.

“What do you wanna do?” Zuko asked as they sat on a bench and watched the countless streams of people flow by in front of them.

“Wanna see the Statue of Liberty? I don’t wanna go inside it or anything, but it would be cool to see it before I leave.”

“When are you planning on leaving?”

Sokka shrugged. “I dunno. Probably in a few days or so. As much as I like being with you, I just…”

“No, it’s okay. I get it. You want to go home.”

Sokka’s lips pulled into a smile. “Yeah. Thanks for understanding.”

“No problem. Anyways, there’s a train stop at the intersection of 31st Street and 31st Avenue. We should head there now if we wanna catch the next train to Liberty State Park.”

Sokka agreed, and the two of them sat beside each other for the entire hour and half journey to Liberty State Park.

The short walk to the park was quiet and peaceful, and small crowds had gathered in various places around the area, many taking pictures of the beautiful New York cityscape that sliced through the sky with its gray, angular fingers. They found a place to sit on a bench that overlooked the water, the Statue of Liberty standing tall and immovable just across a short stretch of the Hudson River.

“It’s beautiful,” Sokka said.

“It is.” 

But Zuko wasn’t looking at the statue. He could see it whenever he wanted. Sokka was going to leave soon, and he didn’t know when the next time he’d see him was. These could very well be their final moments together, and he wasn’t going to waste them with places that were in his own backyard. He and Iroh could go on a tour of the city together sometime soon, but Sokka had plans to return to Canada in a few days’ time.

“I know this is kind of out of left field, but...did I ever tell you what happened to my mom?” Zuko questioned.

Sokka turned to look at him and placed his own hand atop Zuko’s. “You didn’t. If I’m being perfectly honest, I kinda just assumed she died, since you always mention her in the past tense.”

Zuko sighed as a familiar sadness welled up in his gut. “To be honest, I don’t _really_ know. One night, she and my dad got into a pretty bad argument. I can’t remember anything either of them said, but I know they were arguing about me. That night, I remember my mom coming into my bedroom and waking me up, telling me that she loved me. She gave me a kiss and promised we’d meet again one day. I don’t remember what I said, but I must’ve fallen back asleep after that, because when I woke up, it was morning. I guess I just kind of brushed it off as a weird dream, until I entered the kitchen and saw my mom was gone. My dad is and always has been our family’s sole breadwinner. He makes enough money that my mom can stay at home and take care of Azula and I, so I remember thinking it was strange that mom wasn’t around. She would always cook breakfast for us, so I didn’t know what was going on,” he paused to collect himself for a few moments before continuing.

“I asked my dad, and he just kind of told me that she left and wasn’t coming back. He threatened to kill me if I went to look for her or if I told anyone she was missing. The next day, her picture was all over newspapers and TV. My dad even got interviewed and pretended to cry, talking about how heartbroken he was over my mother’s disappearance, meanwhile Azula and I knew the truth. The police pretended to search for her, and even led a search involving my dad and the general public, despite knowing they wouldn’t find her. My dad paid them off to look the other way regarding what happened to her. I never got any answers, and I’m still no closer to finding her,” his voice trembled as he spoke. “That was basically one of the only things keeping me in Long Beach. About a year or so ago, Azula said she knew something about her, but I never found out what it was. I’ve tried searching for clues, but it’s like she never even existed.”

Sokka was quiet for several moments before he responded. “So...your dad made her disappear?”

Zuko nodded.

“That’s awful, I’m sorry.”

He sighed, “it’s not like I can do anything about it now. All I can do is hold out hope that Azula was right, and that she isn’t actually dead.”

“I’m sure she isn’t, but...I hope you find the answers you want,” Sokka said softly.

“Thanks.”

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. “If I’m being honest, something sorta similar happened to my mom.”

Zuko sat bolt upright, eyes wide with surprise and eyebrows furrowed. “What?! Your dad made her disappear?!”

Sokka shushed him and glanced around. A few people were shooting odd glances in their direction.

“Shit, sorry,” Zuko mumbled.

“It’s fine, but no. My dad and my mom had a happy marriage, and they loved each other a lot. One day though, my mom left Salluit to head down south to buy some new essentials that we needed. In Salluit, a lot of things are really expensive because they have to be trucked up here. We make as much as we can, and reuse things too, but at the end of the day, we do have to replace our things now and again. Anyways, my mom headed down south to go shopping, and she just...never came back. The police said they’d look into it, but nothing ever really came of it. They don’t really take our cases very seriously at all, especially considering how often our women go missing or are killed. Of course, I know she didn’t leave us. She would never do that. She was loyal to my father and loved me and Katara a lot, and I know she would never just leave us behind.”

Zuko put his hand on Sokka’s slumped shoulders. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. I know she’s probably dead, but...I guess I just hate not knowing more than anything. Our family hasn’t been the same since she’s been gone either. I miss her so much.”

“I know how hard it is to lose your mom,” Zuko said, and Sokka squeezed his hand a little tighter.

“Man,” he laughed bitterly, “this was supposed to be fun, but now I’m just sad.”

“Sorry. I started it,” Zuko murmured.

“What? No, it’s okay, just...why don’t we go somewhere else?”

“Where?”

“How close is Times Square? I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“I think the train ride there is a little over an hour. The Empire State Building and Grand Central Station are also close enough to Times Square that we could walk there.”

Sokka smiled. “That sounds like fun. Let’s go there and take our mind off all this.”

Zuko nodded, and the two of them walked back to the train station and took the hour train ride to 42nd Street, just in front of Times Square. The walk was short but high-energy. Hundreds of people passed by on the sidewalk and streets, cars and tour buses raced past, and countless massive digital signs flashed with countless ads.

“Holy shit,” Sokka gasped as the crowd funneled them out into the square.

Zuko grabbed his hand and pulled him close. “Let’s stay together. It’s easy to get lost.”

Sokka clicked his tongue, face alight with a smile. “I know. Look how...busy everything is.”

“It’s crazy.”

“Yeah.”

“Should we take a picture?” Sokka asked. “My dad will probably want to see. He hasn’t been here in ages.”

“Sure.”

Sokka’s smile widened into a mischievous grin. “And one of us kissing.”

Zuko’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t protest. “Okay.”

Sokka took out his phone and pulled Zuko close. The two of them smiled, and Sokka flashed a peace sign as he took several pictures, sure to get the massive buildings and digital signs in the background. He grinned at Zuko as he lowered his phone. “Wanna take a kiss one? If you’re too embarrassed, we don’t have to.”

He shook his head. “No, I want to.”

“Okay,” Sokka said. He raised his phone as he leaned in, his face only an inch or so from Zuko’s. He bridged the rest of the gap and pressed his lips against Sokka’s as he snapped the picture. They both pulled away and looked at the picture. 

Cute. 

Zuko felt his heart flutter and jump into his throat. 

“Want me to send you the pictures?”

“Yeah.”

Sokka nodded and texted the photos to Zuko. “Let’s walk around a bit and then go to the Grand Central Station and the Empire State Building.”

“Sounds good.”

They strolled through Times Square before checking out the Empire State Building from afar and took some pictures kissing in Grand Central Station. After that, they returned to the Jasmine Dragon and ate dinner with Iroh and Yu, who showed up after their shift at H Mart ended.

“Man...today was pretty cool,” Sokka sighed as he pressed his cheek into the pillow on the futon.

“Yeah, it was,” Zuko couldn’t keep from smiling. 

“What do you wanna do tomorrow?” Sokka asked through a yawn.

“I don’t know. I’m content doing whatever, as long as I’m with you.” 

A thick curtain of silence fell over the room. “Jeez...Zuko, c’mon. You’re embarrassing me.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just...this is the first time I’ve been happy in forever. It feels like everything is finally going right for me. I didn’t realize how good it would feel to finally get away from my dad.”

Sokka smiled too, even though he knew Zuko couldn’t see it. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” he breathed as his heavy eyes fluttered closed. 

“G’night. Sleep well, Zuko.”

“Goodnight.”

  


* * *

  


Sokka and Zuko spent the next three days exploring the city, getting lost down narrow back roads and eating at as many inexpensive restaurants as they could find. They went to the beach on Long Island and danced together at a semi-underground gay bar in nearby Brooklyn. 

As the sky turned orange, they sat together in the white plastic chairs on the tiny balcony outside of Iroh’s bedroom that overlooked the buildings beside the Jasmine Dragon.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Sokka asked, his head resting against Zuko’s shoulder, “the sunset, I mean.”

“Yeah. It is,” he said, drinking in the view of the sky painted orange and gold, a purplish-blue tint creeping down towards the horizon that signaled the coming of night. A few fluffy stray clouds inched past in the sky, red and pink and orange and yellow. 

“What should we do tomorrow?” Zuko looked down at Sokka, his sepia skin alight with the heavenly orange light that blanketed the entire city. 

Sokka sighed and his eyes fluttered closed. “Honestly, I…was thinking about leaving tomorrow. The drive to the airport I use to get home is almost eight hours away. I’ll probably stay the night in a hotel and leave the next day.”

“Do you already have a ticket?”

Sokka nodded. “Yeah. My flight’s set for June fourth. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. We were having so much fun, and I didn’t wanna dampen the mood.”

“It’s fine. I knew you’d have to leave eventually,” Zuko said. Still, the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. 

“Yeah. I guess tonight’s our last night together, then,” Sokka mumbled.

“What do you wanna do after this?” 

Sokka looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Zuko pressed a chaste kiss against his forehead. “Our relationship.”

“Oh, that...well, I see no reason why it has to stop. I guess it’ll just have to be long-distance, as long as you’re okay with it. I’ll call and text you as much as I can, and since we’re in the same time zone, we can facetime and stuff,” Sokka smiled.

“It’s not ideal, but...I’d rather have that than ending it, I guess,” Zuko shrugged. “I don’t think I’d be able to forget you so easily.”

“Me either. I can’t stop thinking about you,” Sokka admitted. He sighed as he closed his eyes and moved in closer to Zuko, enough so that the plastic arms of their chairs were now touching. “I’m glad we met, ‘cause I’ve never met a guy like you before.”

“Me too.”

  


* * *

  


Sokka awoke before Zuko, as he’d planned. He made for the door, clothes in hand, before pausing in the doorway with his eyes fixed on Zuko’s peaceful sleeping form. Beneath the thick layer of blankets, he shifted and muttered something inaudible. 

Tearing himself away, he went to the bathroom to change before sitting in the hallway outside the door, texting his dad.

‘hey dad, im heading to the airport soon.’

To his surprise, his dad texted back a few minutes later. ‘Are you coming home tonight?’

‘no, tomorrow. gonna stay in a hotel outside the airport, since my flight is tomorrow morning.’

‘Alright. See you then. Looking forward to having you back home, my son.’

Sokka smiled, even though his chest ached. 

Behind him, the door to Zuko’s bedroom opened. Zuko stood in the doorway, yawning and rubbing his sleep-heavy eyes. “Oh, Sokka…”

“Hey,” he said as he got to his feet, “I already packed all my things, I’m gonna leave soon.”

Iroh’s voice came from his right. “Not without breakfast.”

“Uncle,” Zuko laughed and shook his head, “I knew I smelled something really delicious. I thought it was my dream, but I guess not.”

“I made stir-fry _fensi_ 12. It's Yu's recipe, so you should have some before you go.”

Zuko nodded as he ran a hand through his unkempt black hair. “Believe me, he won’t let you leave unless you eat,” he joked.

“It smells delicious, I’m starving,” Sokka chirped as he entered the small kitchen. He planted himself in one of the chairs and grabbed a plate, helping himself to some of the food from the large bowl. Zuko and Iroh sat down at the table and did the same, and the three of them ate in calm silence. 

“So, why are you up so early?” Iroh asked.

Sokka slurped up a mouthful of noodles and vegetables, “oh, I’m heading to the airport today. It’s about an eight hour drive, so I wanna get a head start.”

“I see,” Iroh nodded knowingly, “heading back home already?”

“Yeah, it’s time. I’m feeling pretty homesick. Thanks so much for having me. It means a lot that you let me crash at your place for free,” Sokka smiled at him.

“No problem. It was worth it, seeing Zuko so happy.”

Zuko couldn’t bring himself to respond. What was he even supposed to say? A thousand thoughts raced through his mind at once, and for a moment he considered pleading with Sokka to stay for just one more day. 

But he’d already paid for his flight and made arrangements for a hotel, and it finally hit him that Sokka was leaving and not coming back for a long time. Sure, they could text or call or even facetime, but it wasn’t the same.

“I’m...going to miss you,” was all he could bring himself to say.

Sokka nodded, “me too. You should definitely come to Salluit some time, if you can. I know it’s kind of far, but...you’re always welcome.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Sokka sighed as he got up from his chair and put his plate in the sink. 

“Thanks for the food. I’m gonna go get my things and get on the road. If I leave now, I can get to Québec City by around 4 PM.” 

With that, he left the kitchen and went to Zuko’s bedroom to get his bags. Iroh finished his food and helped Sokka load his things into the car, all the while Zuko remained in the kitchen, picking at his food. 

Iroh returned to the kitchen several minutes later, more out of breath than he had been. “Zuko, you should go say goodbye.”

“I will,” he got up and descended the stairs, heading outside in his slippers and the clothes he’d slept in. Sokka’s car was still idling in the parking lot, and Zuko ran to it and knocked on the window. It rolled down, and Sokka smiled up at him.

“Hey.”

“Sokka, I…”

Sokka opened the door and got out, wrapping his arms around Zuko and pulling him in for a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Zuko nodded as a tear rolled down his cheek. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss you too.”

Sokka pulled back and kissed him. The two stayed like that for several moments, locked in a passionate kiss, embracing.

“I promise I’ll keep in touch. I’ll text you every day, okay?” Sokka placed his hand on Zuko’s cheek and stroked it.

“I know.”

Sokka pulled away reluctantly and got back in his car. “I should be leaving. I’ll let you know as soon as I get there.”

“Sokka.”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. I promise I’ll come see you before the semester starts again, okay?”

“I’m taking a year off,” Zuko admitted.

“I’ll probably do the same. I’ll be sure to come back and visit you in the fall. You can come back to Salluit with me over winter break, and we can watch the northern lights together.”

Zuko’s breath caught in his throat as he blinked away tears. “That sounds amazing. I’ll be waiting.”

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. A Japanese swear word that's roughly equivalent to 'shit' in English. Back
> 
> 2\. 'Caribou (reindeer) meat' in Inuktitut, a common type of meat eaten by Inuit. Back
> 
> 3\. Means 'I like the taste' in Inuktitut. Back
> 
> 4\. Inuktitut; means 'what?'. Back
> 
> 5\. A BL oneshot manga that's fairly popular in the queer community as an example of good mlm representation. It's a short slice of life manga that follows a highschool boy named Nakamura Okuto, a gay guy with a crush on his classmate. Back
> 
> 6\. A traditional Inuit dish. It is the blubber and fat of a whale (usually a Bowhead whale) cut into pieces and eaten raw, frozen or fresh. Back
> 
> 7\. What Iroh is referring to here is NOT what most Americans know of as a 'futon', a couch-like thing. He is referring instead to the original type of (Japanese) futon, a sleeping mat that is spread on the floor with a blanket on top. They had these in Avatar, but if you've ever watched literally any anime you've probably seen a character sleeping on one at least once. Back
> 
> 8\. A Japanese dish of grilled and seasoned chicken. Very delicious and a well-known Japanese street food, often served skewered. Back
> 
> 9\. Not sure if these are a thing outside of the US, but they're pretty popular in big cities over here. H Mart is a market that sells many different types of Asian foods and groceries from various countries. Back
> 
> 10\. Slang, just means someone from Canada. It's kind of like how New Zealanders are called 'kiwis'. Back
> 
> 11\. A popular probiotic drink in Asia. It tastes sweet and very delicious, and is made of milk (so Sokka was partially right). Back
> 
> 12\. Chinese dish that's kind of like yakisoba but uses fensi noodles, a type of thin clear noodle made from starch. Back


End file.
